


Your Friendly Neighbourhood Deadpool

by AbigailKinney4life



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: ALL the tags, Allusions to mental health issues, Allusions to the Avengers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Coming Untouched, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Gore, Love, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Porn With Plot, Romance, Smut, Upsetting Imagery, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-03 15:55:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6616552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbigailKinney4life/pseuds/AbigailKinney4life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter Parker’s hardest job was being Spiderman, but on occasion, Spiderman’s hardest job was being Peter Parker. With bad guys to fight, a best friend out to destroy him and a city to protect, this is the very worst time for Peter’s schoolwork to be overdue. Luckily for Peter, he has the world’s most amazing boyfriend who very graciously steps in and offers to take Peter’s mantel for the week while he gets his paper finished. Sure, Wade had never particularly fancied being a superhero but he’d always fancied being Spiderman. How hard could it be? Unfortunately for Deadpool, this wasn’t the first time he’d eaten his words, and most definitely wouldn’t be the last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Spiderman/Deadpool, or any other characters, they belong to Marvel Comics, Marvel Movies, Sony and any other respective owners out there. I also do not own anything else I reference throughout.
> 
> A/N: So I’ve always been a big fan of Spiderman and Deadpool respectively, plus I always preferred the original Spiderman trilogy to the Andrew Garfield one but that’s just preference, and Deadpool the movie was amazing so I started reading some fanfiction, adored it, and have now decided to add to the fray. The canon is a bit of a mesh from the original Spiderman trilogy but not necessarily in order, but that being said, you can read this as any version of Spiderman, and indeed any version of Deadpool, that you wish. My only hope is that you all enjoy :) xxx (Also, it could be argued that Wade is a little OOC in this because he's written as more mellow than normal but that's just attributed to the fact that he's been in an established relationship with Peter for a while and the focus in this story isn't necessarily on Wade's mental health so I've not been explicit about it, anyways, I'll shut up now)

“Your paper on fusion is still overdue.” Doctor Connors was reprimanding, Peter tried to keep his eyes from closing but he couldn’t help it. He’d had to shut down a bank robbery downtown last night and had maybe caught an hour and a half before he’d had to race to class. When he was back flipping to narrowly avoid a bullet aimed for his head, whilst trying to stop a van loaded with cash from taking off in the other direction, his fusion paper was pretty much the last thing on his mind.

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, Doctor Connors. I’ve err…been busy, lately.”

“The only thing you should be busy with, lately, Parker, is your paper. You do realise it counts for more than half your overall grade?”

Peter could feel a headache coming on and tried to block it out, along with the impeding dread that his life was slowly falling apart.

“I know, I’m aware…I, I promise to have it done…”

“By Friday, Parker.” Doctor Connors interrupted, giving him a stern look.

Peter blanched. “Wh…what? This Friday?”

“This Friday, Parker. Or I’m failing you.”

Doctor Connors gave him what Peter assumed to be a sympathetic glance before he turned and walked away. The minute he was out of earshot, Peter groaned loudly, garnering the attention of some of his fellow students who gave him dithering looks. He rubbed his face before turning around and setting off for home.

What started out as a gentle ride home to his apartment, however, ended up turning into a detour into a back alley way, a quick strip down into his Spidey suit forcing him to leave his own clothes behind before breaking up a convenience store robbery he’d spotted in progress a few blocks back. He’d webbed one of the robber’s guns out of his hand and across the street, sent an elbow to the face in the other one’s direction and it wasn’t long before the two of them were running out of the door and straight into the arms of the awaiting officers gathering outside. The store owner had thanked him profusely and Peter couldn’t help but swell with pride as he swung from building to building, but the further he got from the action and the nearer he got back to his apartment, his real life and his darn paper the more downtrodden he became and when he launched himself into the permanently opened window of his top floor, dilapidated apartment, he was unusually despondent.

He pulled off his mask and sighed as he remembered he’d been forced to leave his clothes in that alleyway. He needed a more efficient system than this, he lost way too many shirts this way. He couldn’t help his mind wandering to what would happen, given how many times he actually swung in and out of his apartment as Spiderman, should the Daily Bugle get hold of this information. The headline ‘ _Spiderman in sordid affair with photographer’_ popped into his head. He couldn’t help snorting at the thought and felt slightly cheered as he stripped out of his outfit and pulled a white, slightly-too-big t-shirt that may or may not have actually been Wade’s now that he thought about it, over his head and rummaged around in his closet for some jeans.

Peter glanced outside of the permanently open window and frowned at the sky, already darkening as it entered into evening, but decided to start his paper regardless. Being a procrastinating superhero was really not a habit he wanted to get into.

He sighed dramatically and dumped his books onto the desk and plonked down in his seat. Peter realised he was being a little petulant, and he did love physics, he truly did, but with the ever-rising crime rate, his involvement with the Avengers plus the fact that his best friend, Harry Osborne, had somehow been administered with the same strain of insanity-inducing virus as his father and decided to take up his mantel and become the new Green Goblin, hell-bent on killing Spiderman as revenge for this father’s death. He was too overwhelmed with stress right now to be too concerned with his other passions.

It was that exact moment, however, that the unmissable red and ripped Deadpool launched through the permanently open window, landing heavily on his feet with no grace or finesse whatsoever. He lifted a gloved hand to his face and pulled his mask up, letting it rest just below his nose, revealing a grinning mouth and jagged, mottled scars covering the expanse of exposed skin.

“Hey, Beautiful.” Said Wade.

Wade Wilson, A.K.A Deadpool, A.K.A the world’s Hottest Mess, whom Peter had met through the Avengers about a year and half ago and had been unable to shake off since, from his mind or his heart, was now the proud owner of the title of Peter Parker’s Certified Boyfriend. He’d joked about getting it trademarked but Peter had refused to placate him, knowing that one word of encouragement was all Wade needed to actually go and do it.

“Hey, yourself.” Peter replied, visibly letting go of a weight he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. Despite his recent stresses, he couldn’t help but feel immediately relaxed upon seeing his boyfriend.

“No one saw me come up.” Wade voiced absentmindedly, which was an impressive feat considering Peter was fairly sure he just scaled the side of the building instead of using the front door like any normal person. But Peter supposed that if anyone was beyond normal, then it was Wade. It was probably the most normal thing for him to use the window.

The headline ‘ _PHOTOGRAPHER PETER PARKER INVOLVED IN THREEWAY WITH SPIDERMAN AND DEADPOOL’_ decided to materialise in his head and he decided to keep that particular thought to himself.

“Come here.” Peter said gently, extending his hand out to him.

Wade crossed the distance between them and leant down, their lips meeting in a kiss. It was a perfect kiss, long and sweet, and Peter wished it didn’t have to end but eventually Wade pulled away, stroking his cheek slightly before crossing back to Peter’s bed. Peter swivelled in his chair and watched as the mercenary pulled his mask off of his head, revealing the rest of the scars there, following on down his neck, so perfectly placed Peter could never fathom how he claimed to be more attractive without them. He then proceeded to pull his guns from his hips and place them on the bed, unsheathing his katanas from his back and laying them down, too. As Peter watched him, exposed skin all out in the open, he recalled a time when Wade had been far too self-conscious to reveal himself to Peter, to be honest, he still got self-conscious now but Peter liked to think he was comfortable enough in their relationship that he knew Peter thought he was perfect just the way he was.

Years of being a trained mercenary had sharpened Wade’s senses and it was only a matter of seconds before he realised that he was being watched. He inclined his head to find his boyfriend staring at him from across the small, multi-purpose bedroom and grinned at him. After a moment, however, Peter’s melancholy expression registered with Wade and he frowned.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked.

Peter sighed and ran a hand through his chocolate hair, mussing it further than it already was. “Nothing, really.” He said, smiling despite himself. “I just have a dumb, 5000-word paper on fusion due by the end of the week and with being Spiderman and all…besides Harry trying to kill me…not to mention never knowing when Steve or Tony is gonna call with a planetary crisis…I just don’t have the time…”

Wade crossed the space between them and leant against the desk, running a hand through Peter’s hair because he couldn’t resist feeling his soft locks tumbling through his fingers.

“Poor baby…” He murmured, before going quiet as the damaged cogs in his brain began to whir with life. “What if…what if I’m Spiderman for you?’

Peter snorted, he couldn’t help it. “I don’t think the Spidey suit would fit you.” He told him earnestly. Wade rolled his eyes and smacked him lightly on the head.

Peter remembered how rough Deadpool’s touch used to be, simply from a life of killing and limited affectionate human contact, but now, with Peter at least, he was always gentle, always considerate. Peter liked to think he’d made a mark on Wade’s heart.

Of course, Peter wasn’t an idiot. He was well-aware that Wade was a semi-crazed mercenary who killed without a second thought, but, and he attributed this to the fact that he was the golden boy of American superheroes, there was something ridiculously, _embarrassingly_ enticing about being the only one said crazed mercenary had a soft spot for. The only person they would kill _for,_ kill to protect. To be completely honest with himself, Peter loved that feeling. But then he loved Wade so he’d never really had a problem with it.

“That’s not what I meant, bug boy.” Wade said. “I mean; I could take on the _role_ of Spiderman…you know…look after the city for a few days while you get your work done.”

Peter was speechless. It took him a minute to truly appreciate what had just come out of Wade’s mouth, Deadpool’s mouth. Wade, however, maintained eye contact with him, one scarred eyebrow cocked.

“But you’re a mercenary.” Peter told him uselessly. “And you hate mindlessly protecting people.”

“I’m not mindlessly protecting people; I’m mindlessly protecting you. Besides, I’m sure I can pretend to be a superhero for a few days…I think…before I snap and go on a killing spree, anyhow.”

Wade’s mouth pulled up into a smile and Peter laughed despite himself, but was touched that Wade would do such a thing for him.

“You’d do that for me?” He asked regardless.

Wade cocked his head to the side, as if confused. “Of course I would. I love you, idiot.”

Peter stilled. That was the first time he’d ever said it, it was the first time either of them had ever said it. He continued to stare, shocked, and Wade laughed nervously, hand flying up to scratch his neck distractedly.

Peter stood and Wade shifted where he was leant against the desk, as if subconsciously trying to get as far away from Peter as possible without actually moving, turning his face away. Peter merely stood in front of him, his full height just matching Wade’s leant, and willed himself to speak.

“You love me?” He repeated, dumbfounded, wishing Wade would look at him.

Luckily, Wade granted his wish and inclined his head to face him, pushing himself from the desk to his full height, towering over Peter, all rippling muscles and tight red Kevlar, but his eyes were so gentle staring down at him that Peter couldn’t be afraid.

“Yeah, of course I do.” Said Wade. “It’s obvious, isn’t it, babe? You bring out the good in me, I didn’t think there was any fucking left but you’ve found it. I don’t know what I’d be doing with my life right now if you didn’t follow me around like a lost puppy.”

“Right.” Peter scoffed, allowing his body weight to rest against Wade’s, his arms winding themselves around the mercenary’s neck. Wade’s strong, gloved hands settled instinctively on his hips and pulled him flush against him. Peter’s breath hitched in his throat but he raised an eyebrow.

“More like you’re the lost puppy who won’t stop following me ‘round.”

Wade chuckled, it was a deep sound that reverberated in his chest and vibrated Peter’s skin. “Yeah, you’re right.” He said.

He leant down, capturing Peter’s unsuspecting mouth. They kissed, open-mouthed and languid, Peter’s lips parted instinctively and he sighed contentedly as he felt Wade’s warm tongue entwine with his. There was no dominance, no fire, just a gentle, passionate embrace that could have gone on for hours for all they knew. Wade pulled back and Peter stumbled against him, light-headed for a moment, missing the warmth dearly, and blushed when he looked up to find Wade’s eyes alight with amusement.

“Shut up.” He reprimanded, embarrassed. But he didn’t know why, Wade knew exactly what he did to Peter and relished in the knowledge.

Peter pressed his finger tips to Wade’s cheeks, tracing along his raised scars. Wade visibly hesitated but didn’t pull away. Instead, he wrapped his arms around the smaller man’s frame, pulling him impossibly closer.

“You’re wearing my shirt.” Wade murmured against his skin.

 _I knew it._ “Yeah, sorry.” Peter blushed. “I had to leave my clothes downtown, some store was being robbed…”

“Don’t apologise.” Wade admonished, teasing the white cotton between his fingertips. “It looks good on you.”

Peter flushed with pleasure and kissed Wade again.

“Thank you for doing this for me.” Was all he said. “Now I can actually get some work done.” He pressed a chaste, yet lingering, kiss to Wade’s lips before pulling away and turning back to his desk.

Wade, however, was obviously having other ideas and grasped his arm, pulling him back and then they were kissing again. Wade forcing his mouth open and tangling his tongue with his own, Peter moaned involuntarily into Wade’s mouth, hand grasping at his neck as he kissed him back fervently.

“Seriously…” Peter half-whispered against his mouth, attempting a laugh. “I really need to work.”

“I just gave you the week off,” Wade pointed out, hands traveling up Peter’s back. “The least you can give me is a few hours.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “A few hours? That’s a little optimistic, isn’t it?”

Wade clucked, quietly offended. “Oh, don’t play games with me, Spidey. You know I’m a stallion.”

“Oh, yeah?” Peter pressed, sarcasm seeping into his voice. Of course he wasn’t intentionally questioning Wade’s ‘abilities’ but he loved precisely what happened when he got Wade riled up like this.

Wade grinned menacingly at him and Peter felt a shiver of anticipation ripple through his body.

“Oh, yeah, is right.” Wade began. “Besides, I’ve decided. You, my beautiful baby boy, are waaay stressed…” Then Wade was rubbing against the front of Peter’s jeans, hand ghosting over the clothed, albeit sensitive flesh in a monotonous, maddening pattern that afforded Peter no relief. He stiffened for a moment but Wade refused to let up, refused to give him what he wanted and it wasn’t long before he went lax in Wade’s arms, moaning softly against him.

Wade smirked.

“See? You’re already relaxing…”

“W…Wade…” Peter stammered, bracing himself against Wade’s sturdy frame as the mercenary finally, _finally,_ slipped his hand under Peter’s waist band and grasped his hardening dick, running his gloved hand across the tip, the friction making Peter quiver.

“You ready for some of the most distracting, filthiest sex you’ve ever had?” Wade asked cheekily, but his voice was low and guarded, and Peter knew that he was having just as much as an effect on Wade as Wade was having on him.

Peter pressed sloppy kisses along Wade’s jawline, enticed by the way the scars there teased his swollen lips, and loved the way Wade groaned against him.

Peter grinned. Wade liked to think he could reduce Peter to a crumbling, quivering mess which – in fairness – was true, but he never realised he was putty in Peter’s hands, and that Peter knew exactly how to drive him wild.

“Please, Wade, please…fuck me.”

Wade grunted, he didn’t need to be told twice, before one hand curled around Peter’s muscular thigh and hoisted his legs around his waist, lifting him clean off of the ground in one seamless movement. Peter was undoubtedly heavy and strong, unnaturally so, it was the only thing that saved his ass when supervillains were sending him careening into parked cars or off of 30 foot drops or through windows, so it never failed to thrill him that Wade could lift him up and support him as if he weighed nothing. Like they were made for each other.

Peter shouted out when Wade slammed him against the wall, causing the light fixings to shake, Peter laughed as Wade used their new position, with Peter pinned against the wall, to pull back slightly and drag Peter’s jeans and underwear from him, discarding them haphazardly on the floor and leaving Peter completely exposed to him. Peter struggled to rid the taller man of his Deadpool get-up, desperate to feel Wade’s mottled skin against his own. Wade got the hint and shucked his suit off, revealing the scarred, rippling body beneath.

“My landlord will kill you if you break the building.” Peter giggled, hands traveling the expanse of Wade’s chest, desperate to touch as much of him as he could.

“Trust me, babe. Making you cum screaming my name loud enough for that old perv to hear is the only thing I care about.”

That sobered Peter up, and he pulled the now fully naked Wade in for another kiss, filthy and loud, all teeth and tongues and spittle, as he tightened his legs around Wade’s waist, pulling him close.

Wade startled him by growling, hand clawing into Peter’s thigh as he pinned him to the wall. Peter gasped as he squirmed, unable to move, and felt a slick finger teasing his sensitive hole.

He groaned and let his head fall back against the wall, hard. He hadn’t even noticed Wade grab any lube but he didn’t particularly care. All he cared about was the finger pressed inside of him, stretching him open.

“Oh, shit…” He grunted, voice strained as Wade slipped another one inside him, scissoring and twisting and stretching him wide.

“You like that, baby?” Wade teased, and Peter nodded manically.

“Yeah, yeah. Shit, yeah. You know I do…f…fuck!”

Peter moaned brokenly as a third finger slotted in alongside the rest, causing him to keen and scrabble his hands against the wall, trying to find anything to grasp onto, his hand latched to the wall, the tiny, spider-like hairs gripping into the brick and keeping him steady as he spasmed around the thick fingers deep inside of him, curling and brushing imperceptibly against his prostate.

“You look so beautiful like this, Petey…” Wade was muttering, burying his head in Peter’s neck and suckling gently on the exposed flesh. “So perfect…you’re so perfect, too perfect…too perfect for me…”

Peter sincerely wanted to tell Wade that he was absolutely not too perfect for him, and that Wade was perfect just the way he was, but he was too busy crying out as Wade pistoned his fingers in and out of him, dragging along his prostate unrelentingly.

His hand flew from the wall and grasped Wade’s wrist, stilling him.

“I’m gonna…if you don’t stop, I’m gonna come…” He panted, eyes shining with desire and need, sweat glistening on his bare skin. “I need you inside me.”

Wade surged forward and captured Peter’s mouth in a brutal kiss, too turned on with desire and love and madness to be gentle, but Peter lapped it up, grasping painfully at Wade’s neck and pulling him closer, moaning uncontrollably as the mercenary suckled gently on his tongue and going limp against him, trapped between the solid mass of muscle of Wade’s body and the solid brick of the wall, clinging to Wade like he was a lifeline.

Dear God did Wade get off on that, that he could reduce Peter to a quivering wreck, so desperate for _him and only him_ that it was almost too good to believe. He watched Peter’s eyes squeeze shut as he tried to cope with the multiple sensations of the aggressive kiss and the fingers wreaking havoc in his ass and felt like he was going to come from the sight alone.

Wade pulled his fingers, as gently as he could, from Peter’s ass and watched as the younger man’s eyes burst open, teeth biting down unintentionally seductively on his bottom lip as Wade shifted, supporting Peter against the wall as he lined his cock up with his dripping entrance, so ready for him. He could feel his thigh muscles cramping slightly but didn’t dare move.

It occurred to Wade, as things generally did at the most inopportune moments, that any less decent and less grateful boyfriend might have manoeuvred them to a different, more comfortable position, like the bed or the couch, instead of bracing their thighs and pressing one hand against the brick work of the wall in order to keep their boyfriend comfortably pinned between them, but Wade was neither of those things. Wade was strong, he was so strong and he could support Peter Parker for hours, he would hold him up forever if he needed him too. The blissed-out look on Peter’s face just from being fingered at that particular angle and the way he clung so perfectly to his body just confirmed for Wade how very much he would not be moving in the foreseeable future.

He pressed forward, his cock, huge to match his body, inched into Peter and the younger man gasped, body greedily accepting every inch as his thigh muscles strained and shook.

“Shit, fuck…feels so good, Wade, so good…”

“Look at you, going crazy for my cock, so thick, isn’t it, Petey? Stretching you open…” Wade grunted, Peter’s tight heat suffocating him as it reached the hilt and stilled. He trembled against Peter, cock on fire, Peter’s walls like steel and silk at the same time. He worried that if he shifted even a centimetre he’d spill inside of him and it would all be over.

“Wade…” Peter said gently, easing Wade’s face up to his own. His eyes were shining with love and affection and Wade, honest to God, felt the world melt into nothing. Everything was Peter, the hands on him, the legs around him. Nothing else in the world mattered.

“I…” Was all Wade managed to say.

Peter smiled as he kissed him, capturing his bottom lip between his own and suckling for a moment before he pulled back, a line of spittle linking their mouths. Peter’s eyes never left his.

“What?” Wade asked after a moment.

“You’re so beautiful.” Was all Peter said, and Wade felt himself blushing. He didn’t believe him, or at least he didn’t think he did, but it was nice to pretend. Besides, he supposed there was a difference in Peter thinking he was beautiful and him actually being beautiful, and he knew which one he preferred.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me.” Wade said as he pulled out a few inches and then slammed back in, causing Peter to legitimately squeak and slam against the wall, causing the lights to blink again and the walls to shake.

“Oh, Jesus…fuck…” Peter choked as Wade pulled out and plunged back in again, immediately setting up a brutal rhythm, more to relieve the constant pressure on his own dick than anything else.

“Oh, fuck, fuck…don’t…oh my God…” Peter whimpered as Wade brushed his prostate, again and again. The mercenary fucked him mercilessly against the wall and Peter could barely breathe, he felt like his entire body was on fire. Wade’s hand found his hip and pinned him back, changing the angle and making the pressure against his sensitive sweet spot near continuous. A helpless moan fell from his lips as he gripped Wade’s bicep, digging his hand into the skin and the muscle, his enhanced strength causing him to leave bleeding scratches beneath his finger nails.

Wade groaned at the added sensation and Peter watched, transfixed, in his orgasmic haze, as the bloodied scratches began to sew themselves back together before his eyes. The pain was the last straw, apparently, and Wade was coming, grunting as his hot seed spilled into Peter’s ass, completely at the younger man’s mercy as he convulsed against him, arm muscles quivering as he held Peter. And that’s truly what Peter got off on, on Deadpool, his strength and sheer power rippling just beneath his fingertips, a searing heat in his ass, like a caged beast. He could tear Peter apart if he wanted to yet he chose not to. It drove Peter wild, it drove Peter _crazy_ with desire and then he was coming, spurting white ropes from the end of his untouched dick, and he howled as Wade fucked him through it unrelentingly, clinging onto him desperately because it was the only thing he could do before Wade finally stilled, breathing heavily and smiling at him.

Peter blushed but smiled back nonetheless.

“That…was…” Peter tried to articulate. “…Wow.”

Wade laughed breathlessly as he paused for a moment and then gently, ever so gently extracted Peter from the wall. Peter hissed as he realised how stiff his back was, and how the brick work had eaten into his skin and made grooves there.

Wade obviously saw the discomfort on his face.

“I know, I’m sorry. Bed next, nice and comfy.”

“Don’t apologise.” Peter mumbled as Wade carried him to the bed, cock still embedded in his ass. He knelt on the edge of the mattress and laid him down, Peter shook as Wade pulled out from him, immediately keening as the hot white mess Wade had created inside of him trickled out of his used hole and onto the sheets. Wade watched, transfixed, and Peter closed his eyes, moaning contentedly at the sensation as he settled his abused back into the soft mattress.

Wade smiled as he sat on the end of the bed, running a hand through Peter’s hair. Peter’s own hand flew up and caught it, holding it in his own and he opened his sated eyes and stared up at Wade.

“Hey.” He said.

“Hey.” Wade replied.

“You were right.” Peter murmured, stretching and yawning slightly. “I am more relaxed.”

Wade grinned as he leant down and pressed a soft kiss to Peter’s forehead. “I know you are, you get some sleep, okay?”

Peter frowned in whatever sleepy capacity he was capable of. “Aren’t you coming to bed?”

Wade hesitated, he felt guilty for having to leave so soon after sex. It made him feel dirty, even. “I’m really sorry, I’ve got a couple things to clean up tonight, especially if I’m starting as a good guy tomorrow. I’m really sorry.”

Peter looked disheartened but he shook his head. “It’s okay, I understand. You’re as distracted by being Deadpool as I am being Spiderman. I just prefer it when you’re here.”

“I do too, Petey. You know I do.”

He went to stand and find wherever he’d left his suit when he felt Peter’s hand on his wrist. He turned back to him.

“Do you want your shirt back?” He asked innocently, fisting the white cotton at his chest. Wade liked it on him, there was something weirdly erotic about your boyfriend wearing your clothes but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

“You keep it.” He said. “So it’ll feel like I’m here even when I’m not.”

Peter nodded and allowed Wade to kiss him again before he pulled his suit back on and Deadpool launched out of the permanently open window and was gone.

Peter was so tired from the day’s activities that he didn’t bother showering or even getting out of bed. He just pulled the covers over himself and closed his eyes.

With his eyes closed, the smell of Wade that was coming from his shirt was far more noticeable in the small room and, while Peter would have much preferred to have his boyfriend tucked in beside him, being wrapped in him did help.

He fell asleep with the lullaby of Wade’s ‘I love you’ echoing in his ear.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

When Wade actually stopped and thought about it, it really occurred to him that Peter put his life in danger every single day. It was easy, particularly when hanging around with the Avengers where Spiderman was routinely teased for being New York’s sweetheart superhero, that the kid genuinely stopped train crashes and saved little kids from burning buildings and was a goddamn hero, not just a spider who saved cats from trees and helped old women cross the road.

It also served to make Wade feel wholly inadequate to do his job, particularly as he watched six or seven cars pile up along a bridge from his spot perched on a rooftop, horns blaring as they crashed into each other, the crunching of metal continuous and deafening.

“Ah, shit.” Wade commented quietly to himself, wondering precisely how he was going to clear the bridge and wished momentarily for the ability to shoot webs. But his wishful thinking was interrupted when he heard a deafening horn blaring, louder than the others, and whipped his head to see an articulated lorry careening across the bridge, breaking so hard that his rear wheels swivelled out until he was horizontal with the mass of stationary cars. Wade didn’t have time to react as the artic lorry crunched into the wall of vehicles, flattening the sides, and sending the one closest to the edge, a blue Nissan type thingy (Deadpool didn’t know a lot about cars, okay?) into the railing, tearing it apart until the Nissan thingy was dangling precariously over the edge, the unconscious driver in no state to do anything but hover.

“Motherfucker…” Wade muttered exasperatedly, realising that he didn’t have time to consider his plan, he just had to throw himself in. With a hell of a lot more cursing, he threw himself from the building, though not that tall, he still felt his shin snap as he hit the ground and growled, twisting it back to the correct position so it could heal properly before sprinting into the road and following it to the bridge, his slowly healing bone screaming at him the entire way, joining in with the chorus in his head to the point where he didn’t really even notice it.

He stopped in front of the now stationary artic, which had formed a blockade between him and the rest of the cars. He pulled a katana from his left shoulder and pierced the metal of the lorry, using it to propel himself up before he let go and sailed upward, landing in a crouch on the top of the lorry, overlooking the crash site in front of him.

It was safe to say the lorry had done its best to flatten the majority of the cars on this side of the bridge, Wade wanted to downplay it for all the kiddies reading but the reality was that there was blood and twisted metal and the odd limb everywhere. If he wasn’t, well, Deadpool, and he hadn’t been, well, the cause of a lot of pile ups, well, _intentionally_ then it might have turned his stomach. However, he did make a mental note to himself to downplay the extent of the damage to Peter because he knew the kid would just feel guilty people had died while he’d been working away.

He spied the Nissan thingy, with its unconscious driver, tipping, teasing, over the edge.

People were screaming, there were reporters turning up everywhere and Wade allowed himself a sigh as he considered not a single one of them was exactly stepping in to help, all waiting for Spiderman, apparently.

“Shame you got me, baby.” He said to himself, dropping from the lorry to the other side of the bridge, landing softer this time, and launching himself over the twisted wreck of another red car and making a beeline for the Nissan thingy. He suddenly became aware, as well, that he’d left his katana in the side of the lorry.

“Bitch.” He said as he propelled himself over a silver thing that was practically in half, the driver’s head a nice mess cracked against the window and froze, practically mid-air, as he heard some quiet crying come from the back of the vehicle.

He stuck his head into the intact rear end of the silver thing and saw two young girls clinging to each other and crying quietly, there was a momentary delay between them noticing him and then beginning to scream.

“Hey, shut up!” Wade scolded them, they both fell silent and he berated himself sternly, realising that was not what Spiderman would do.

“Uh, are you two okay?”

They nodded quickly, tears still wetting their little faces and fear in their big eyes. Wade didn’t know exactly what to do, he couldn’t exactly take his mask off to make them feel better. Peter, perhaps, but not Wade.

But then, the oldest one, probably around six years old, wiped her nose and said;

“Are you Spiderman?”

Deadpool, Wade, blinked before he nodded.

“Yeah, that’s right, little girl. I’m Spiderman, I’m here to rescue you.”

The little girl turned to her younger sister, as if to console her. “Don’t worry, it’s Spiderman. Don’t be scared, he’s a hero.”

Deadpool’s insides hurt for a moment, but then he wasn’t sure if that was just the cancer rearing its head. But that was the reality, Spiderman, Peter, was a hero. Deadpool was just pretending.

“Are…you gonna save our Mommy?” The youngest one stammered out. Wade cast a sideways glance at what remained of their mother’s skull and was glad he was wearing a mask so the kids couldn’t see the look on his face.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Why not? Now you guys gotta come with me, okay?”

The pair nodded and allowed themselves to be hoisted out of the car, Wade held one of them on each hip, wondering where exactly he was going to deposit them considering the only way back off of the bridge was back over the lorry. The youngest girl wrapped her hands around his neck and proceeded to cling to him, visibly shaking. Wade hesitated for a moment as it occurred to him that these two little lives were in his hands, were trusting him. They thought he was a hero.

A large, metallic creek brought the mercenary out of his reverie and he suddenly remembered the blue Nissan thingy. He gently set the two little girls on the ground and knelt down to their level.

“I’ve gotta run and save that car thing over there from falling, okay? But promise me you won’t move? And I’ll be back faster than you can say chimichangas?”

The two little girls nodded uniformly at him and held hands, Wade nodded back and then sprang to his feet, twisting and bolting to the edge of the bridge where the Nissan thingy was about to go over. The driver had woken now and was screaming, trying desperately to right his car by steering aimlessly with a dead engine.

Wade ran, grabbed the rear bumper and planted his feet on the ground. He didn’t exactly have super strength but he was stronger than most, plus he was a stubborn motherfucker and if his muscles ripped apart they would just sew back together anyway. He yanked the bumper slowly, desperate to get just a few inches back onto the bridge for better leverage, he was gathering quite a crowd of people below the bridge on the ground and suddenly there were camera flares in his face, the driver was screaming and there was noise and screaming and crying and…

“Shut the fuck up!” Wade all but screamed and the driver turned his head and saw him for the first time, eyes bulging in shock. He’d probably been expecting to see Spiderman stood there pulling his car back, not Deadpool. But unlike the little girls, he didn’t shut up, he merely opened his mouth and kept on screaming and Wade had a half a mind to let his ass fall into the road below.

But, gritting his teeth like a good superhero, and knowing that somewhere, somehow, Steve would be proud, he pulled the car, inch by inch, back onto the bridge until the driver was able to scramble onto the backseat and get out through the rear door, landing on wobbly legs onto the safety of the bridge. Wade let his arms fall to his sides, exhausted, before remembering something and turning back.

He made a beeline for the two little girls, who were holding their hands out to him, when suddenly a police helicopter appeared in his periphery, propeller suddenly deafening, landing in front of him and sending a harsh gust in his direction. Then police were piling out, one heading to the driver and another heading for the little girls, one bolted towards him and halted.

“You’re Deadpool.” He said, dumbfounded.

“…Yeah.”

“Why…what happened here?”

“I don’t fucking know.” Wade said, suddenly exasperated. “Some jackass decided to make flatbread out of a car crash. Guts and blood everywhere. It’s fine though, just arrest me, it’s not like I saved three people or anything.”

The officer apprehended Deadpool hesitantly for a moment before he nodded.

“Well, yes. Good job.” He said. “We’ll, err…probably need forensics up here…” He tailed off as he took his walkie-talkie from his belt and began barking orders at someone. The driver gave Wade a suspicious look as he was strapped into a stretcher and while Wade did manage to stop himself from telling him to go fuck himself he didn’t stop himself from subtly giving him the bird as he walked back to the artic. He passed a police woman and a paramedic attending the little girls and sketched them a little wave. The eldest one smiled in his direction and he felt the anger drain from him, suddenly this all seemed worth it. He remembered the mess of their mother and hoped their Dad was still on the scene, his mood dropped as he clambered back over the artic and hissed in appreciation as he found his katana sticking out haphazardly from the metal where he’d left it. He pulled it out and deposited onto his back, moving swiftly from the bridge and to the shadows. It was only then that he truly appreciated his heart thumping in his chest.

He hadn’t liked that one bit, not the whole saving people thing, although it had taken a lot not to put a bullet in that prick’s head, no, he hadn’t liked being out in the open like that. People staring at him, _scowling_ at him, cameras flashing in his face. No, he much preferred the shadows, he much preferred being feared for his reputation that more than preceded him.

He shuddered as he felt the muscles in his arms untangle and sew themselves back together and hoped Peter appreciated what he was doing for him. He hoped he wouldn’t have too many spectacles for the rest of the week.

He paused. In both thought and speed. Those girls. They thought he was a hero. They were probably gonna think that for a long time.

“Huh.” Was all he said.

…

As it turned out, his week didn’t go that much better. It was natural that the people he saved would be afraid of him because of the rep he had as Deadpool, the crazed mercenary who killed more people than he’d saved, and ever since his affiliation with the Avengers his profile had been becoming a lot hotter. So he understood that people would see him and immediately shit themselves because _Holy shit, that’s Deadpool. I heard he once shot a guy through the neck because he insulted his boots._

Which, in fairness, did happen once.

So Wade was cool with people being afraid of Deadpool because he was painted as some violent freak, but every now and again people weren’t just afraid of him because they’d heard from someone else that he was a violent freak, but because he actually was a violent freak.

Wade didn’t want to misrepresent himself. He wasn’t some tortured soul soiled by the media as a rage-filled lunatic that killed without agenda. He was quite happily a rage-filled lunatic that killed without agenda. So while he was pissed that dickhead driver had given him the stink eye for actually being nice and saving his life, he couldn’t actually convince himself to be pissed at the woman he’d saved the next day for freaking out.

He was scuttling along in the shadows like a good little spider, the sun just dipping below the horizon and casting the city in a twilight hue, and he was contemplating dropping in on Peter when he noticed a pretty woman walking along by herself and decided to follow her.

Putting it like that made it sound dodgy as hell but his intentions were pure. He knew what the back alleys of New York city were like at night, plus he had his superhero head on, he was just gonna tail her until she got home or got to the subway or wherever she was going. He was only half-paying attention as he meandered on in the shadows, but it wasn’t the first time he’d followed someone around like this. He’d tailed a pair of girl scouts five miles once as they were selling cookies because the streets were home to a notorious drug cartel Tony had been on his ass to clear out. What could he say? He was a nice guy like that.

Speaking of nice guys, Wade was suddenly reminded of dickhead driver and the look he’d given him when he’d been lead away, and the disbelieving look that cop had given him. They were lucky he was Spiderman now because otherwise they’d be leaving with a foot in the ass.

He grumbled to himself, this was precisely why he didn’t like being out in the open. Looking the way he did, he kind of got used to the shadows, because people were judgy assholes that wouldn’t believe what you shoved right in front of them.

Wadw clenched his fist, suddenly desperate to kick the shit out of anyone who came along, he’d been too good for almost 48 hours now and it was killing him.

He watched as the pretty lady took a detour down a back alley, not noticing the three black-hooded men leaning against the corner but to Deadpool they were as clear as day. He watched as they inclined their hooded heads to each other before heading around the corner in precisely the same direction as the pretty lady.

Deadpool’s eyes narrowed and he grinned behind his mask. _Gotcha._

He sprang into action, unsheathing one of his guns and stealing quickly down the same alleyway. He heard the cry of the woman ringing in his ears as one of the hooded men pulled her back by the hair, the other ripping her handbag from her arm and pushing her into the wall. Deadpool growled as he aimed for the head of the man with his hand in her hair before a blinding light flashed across his vision and he knew Spiderman would never kill and hissed as he shoved his gun back into his thigh holster and instead sent a fist into the back of his head. He screamed out and stumbled back, letting the woman go. Deadpool seized him by the neck and lifted him clean from the ground, loving the gurgling sounds he made as his airway was restricted, lashing out a heavy kick at the one with the handbag who screeched and dropped the bag, a crunch of bone rang in the air before he was running off in the other direction with the third guy Deadpool wasn’t even paying attention to.

Deadpool turned, hooded man still in his grip, before he released his fingers and head-butted him in the same second, sending him bloodied and unconscious to the ground.

It was only then that he noticed the other two had gone and considered following them before he heard heavy breathing behind him and turned to see the pretty lady cowering against the alley wall, fearful eyes fixed on him. He hesitated as he lowered his hands to his sides, trying to appear a little less intimidating.

That, however, was slightly redundant. Wade was aware that he was a tall, broad, muscular, visibly intimidating man dressed entirely in red and black Kevlar and leather with guns strapped to his thighs and swords on his back, with an unconscious man lying at his feet. It would take a lot more to make him look less intimidating.

“Look, I’m not gonna hurt you, okay?” He said, holding his hands up to show they were empty. “Neither are these guys, just a couple of pussies, really.”

She continued to stare at him and he sighed, he walked a few steps forward and the woman bristled. Wade stilled immediately, holding his hands out again before leaning down slowly and picking up the woman’s handbag, extending it out to her as a peace offering.

She apprehended him for a moment, eyes wide, and Wade felt bad, suddenly _bad_ , the kind of bad you felt deep in your stomach, before he placed the bag in front of her and retreated back as far as the small alleyway would let him.

The pretty woman didn’t take her eyes off of him as she snagged the bag from the ground and scurried away immediately like a frightened animal. Wade wished she would have let him take her to the hospital or something but there was no way, she would be better off without his help. At least she had less chance of having a heart attack that way, anyway.

He turned and went to walk away until he heard a soft moaning from behind himself and remembered the unconscious prick he’d left on the floor.

He turned and cocked his head as he apprehended him, just lying there with blood bubbling out of his nose as he struggled to breathe. Part of him didn’t even care enough to kill him, the terrified look in the woman’s eyes had extinguished the fire in his stomach and he couldn’t bring himself to be angry with her for running when he’d been trying to save her. He wasn’t a hero.

But Peter was, and Wade had made him a promise.

So, feeling uncharacteristically disheartened, Wade crouched and hauled the unconscious body from the floor, flinging it unceremoniously over one broad shoulder and turning and walking from the alleyway and through the lamp-lit back streets of New York.

He dumped him on the steps of a police station and yawned behind his mask. Superheroing was hard work and had tired him out. Wade knew, in that moment, exactly where he wanted to be.

…

 

Peter’s day had gone far more normally. He’d woken early and spent the majority of the morning working on his paper, proud as he managed to get nearly six-hundred words finished in one sitting. When the words on the screen in front of him began to go blurry, however, he decided it was time for a break.

He opened his closet to grab his jacket, pausing momentarily as he saw his Spidey suit hanging there. He felt almost guilty for not having it on, and even missed the exhilaration of swinging from building to building despite the fact that it had barely been 48 hours since he’d handed the torch over to Wade.

He forced himself to leave the suit untouched and exited his apartment block, his plan was to grab some lunch, swing ‘round to the offices of the Daily Bugle for his due cheque for his latest pictures of Spiderman and head home to work on his paper some more, hopefully allowing him to squeeze in a few hours to see Wade that night.

And his day went quite according to plan until he got to the Bugle and caught sight of their new front page on his way to Jameson’s office.

He halted and picked up the newspaper. On the front cover was a blurry image of Wade, fully-Deadpool, pulling what looked like a Blue Nissan from the edge of a bridge while the twisted wrecks of other cars surrounded him. The caption read:

‘ _Finally – City Safe. Masked hero saves children from pile up.’_

Peter cocked his head to the side as he read it. He wasn’t denying what Wade had done, and from what he’d heard of the pileup he had indeed been a hero, but the irony of the situation was what struck him. Specifically, that he’d been saving people for years and the Bugle still called for his lynching yet was unabashedly fangirling for the mercenary generally regarded as untrustworthy and dangerous by the rest of the media.

The thought lingered in his head as he pushed open the door to J. Jonah Jameson’s office to find him stood with his editor and various assistants in full-rant mode about something. All eyes zeroed in on him and he flinched for some unknown reason.

“Parker!” Jameson barked. “Just the man I wanted to see!”

Peter’s brows knitted together in confusion. Jameson had never said _that_ to him before.

“Really? Why?” He asked, before coughing and trying to speak again without sounding as surprised. “Err…why?” He repeated, voice a few octaves lower.

Jameson all but threw the new issue – with the blurry Deadpool – in his face. He caught it and stared down at it again, the same scene of Wade hauling a car up from the side of a bridge. He read down a few more paragraphs before his eyes softened and he zeroed in on the blurry figure of Wade, regarding it with tender affection. “He saved two little girls?” He asked gently.

“You’re damn right he did!” Jameson thundered. “Man’s a damn hero, that’s what. All the nonsense we’ve been fed about Deadpool is lies! Lies!”

Peter was far to overcome with emotion for Wade, and precisely what he was doing just to help him out, to truly appreciate the fact that Deadpool was now held in higher regard with this specific media outlet than Spiderman.

“So, why do you need me?” He asked, confused, looking back up to Jameson. His affiliation with Wade surely wasn’t known? Unless someone really had got that shot of him coming in through the permanently open window. A wave of panic swept through him until Jameson cut him off with a dithering look.

“Pictures, Parker! Pictures! That’s what I pay you for, isn’t it? Get me some good shots of Deadpool, I’ll give you $500!”

Peter blanched. “$500?” He asked incredulously. Now shots of Deadpool were even more expensive than shots of Spiderman.

“You heard me, out of my office, now!”

Peter exited the office, paper still in hand and quickly picked up the cheque from the receptionist he’d came in for, contemplating his new task.

He felt like he ought to be annoyed, jealous even, that Deadpool was gaining critical acclaim from the Bugle for one good deed and Spiderman was still a pariah for thousands, and that one shot of Deadpool cost more than he’d ever received for a shot of Spiderman. He knew that should have pissed him off, but it didn’t. For a start, the irony was amusing. He’d shaken off press opinion a long time ago and this felt like God’s own private joke. But there was another reason he couldn’t be upset, as well.

He hadn’t spoken to Wade since the mercenary had fucked him blissfully against the wall and left his apartment two days ago, and he hadn’t heard anything specific about this bridge pile up on the news since today, he’d had no idea what Wade had done. That he’d saved people, saved children. Peter was just…he was just _so damn proud._ And suddenly desperate to see his boyfriend so he could show him the article. He knew Wade, Deadpool, would deny such a title as ‘hero’ but Peter wanted to be the one to tell him that it was absolutely deserved, that he was proud of him and jealous of him and that…that he loved him.

Luckily for Peter, he didn’t have to wait long until the mercenary was perched on the sill of his permanently open window, mask pulled just below his nose and revealing his scarred mouth.

Peter bounded to him, ready to pull him through the window and smother him in love and ride him all night long to show his appreciation but something stopped him.

Peter couldn’t see all of Wade’s face like this, with his mask pulled down, but there was something in the way he was tilting his head, something in the way he was perched half out the window like he could escape any moment he chose.

Peter frowned.

“Wade? What’s wrong?”

Wade inclined his head to Peter and smiled at him and Peter visibly deflated, whatever it was, it couldn’t be that bad.

“Please, come in. Please.” He said gently.

Wade looked like he was contemplating for a moment before he twisted his large body and dutifully launched himself into the small multi-purpose apartment, standing in front of Peter as a soldier would to a General, awaiting his orders.

His head was still bowed and he didn’t stop Peter from easing his mask from his face, discarding it on the floor and then easing his face to his so their eyes met. Wade’s eyes were gentle, almost saddened but still sparkling as they always did and Peter let his hands travel comfortingly down the expanse of his Kevlar-covered chest, letting Wade know that whatever had happened, he had him, he was right here.

It was only then that he noticed the blood.

Peter pulled his hands away from Wade’s chest and looked at the red, sticky substance staining his palms and frowned.

“Oh my God. Are you hurt?” He asked worriedly.

Wade chuckled gently and shook his head, bringing his gloved hands up and grasping Peter’s, pulling him closer to him.

“No.” He spoke finally. “It’s not mine. There…um…”

“Tell me, babe.”

Wade smiled to himself. _Babe._ That was never gonna get old. When he’d been out there in that alleyway, the only place he’d wanted to be was right here. Stood in Peter’s apartment, the man pressed against him and looking at him like he was the most important person in the whole world.

“Just…being you is really difficult.” He tried to laugh it off but couldn’t quite manage it. “You know, it’s really hard. Not really to do, but to deal with. You go out of your way to save someone and they, they _look at you,_ like you’re some kind of monster…” He shook his head as if to clear it. “Anyways, I just wanted to say I’m really proud of you for what you do, not just in how you do it, but in how you manage to maintain such a great rapport with the city. They really love you, whenever you doubt that, just remember that they do, and so do I.”

Peter had to bite his lip to stop himself from becoming overwhelmed with emotion. He couldn’t help it, he pushed up on his tip-toes and pressed a kiss to Wade’s lips, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling the taller man down to him with probably more force than Wade was expecting as he yelped against his mouth and stumbled forward, sending them both tumbling to the floor.

Wade caught himself with his hands pressed the floor either side of Peter’s head to avoid his full body weight crushing him, but Peter merely smirked up at him as he allowed his legs to fall open and Wade settled in between them. He raised an eyebrow at Peter before plunging down and kissing him again, one gloved hand curling around Peter’s knee and hiking his leg around his waist. Peter moaned as he dug his fingernails into Wade’s neck, forcing their mouths open and sighing as he felt Wade’s lips sliding wetly against his own, wishing the smell, the touch, the heat would never end.

Wade’s hand held his leg firm around his waist, grinding into his crotch and Peter moaned blearily as he wrapped his arms around Wade’s broad shoulders, anything to gain purchase, hands fumbling over the katana’s strapped to his back and shivering. The kiss was deeper now, Wade’s tongue was entangling with his own and barely allowing him to breathe and Peter knew that if he died right then and there it would be the absolute best way to go.

Then Wade was pulling away from his mouth and Peter whined, causing Wade to chuckle as he pressed wet kisses down the side of his neck. The feeling was intense and amazing on his sensitive flesh but he missed the kiss dearly and tried his best to pull Wade back, unable to command him vocally in his breathless state.

“Look at that, Spiderman, desperate for me…” Wade murmured against Peter’s neck, fingers digging into Peter’s thigh through the smaller man’s jeans and making him mewl. “I’m not gonna lie, baby…this is a sex tape that would sell…”

“Oh, yeah, shit…” Peter mumbled, pressing quick kisses to the top of Wade’s head. “Went to the Bugle today…saw you’re…the bridge, the kids…you’re…a hero, so proud of you…”

Suddenly the lips on his neck and the hand on his thigh was gone and Wade had his hands braced against the floor on either side of Peter’s head, pushing himself up slightly so he was face to face with the young superhero.

Peter’s head was spinning at the sudden loss of all that was warm and good in the world and he apprehended Wade confusedly.

“What?” He asked.

“Did you just call me a hero?” Wade asked, expression almost accusing.

“What?” Peter hiked himself up on his elbows, bringing his face closer to Wade’s. “Of course I did, you are. You saved those kids from that wreck, it was in the paper.” He pressed another kiss to Wade’s scarred cheek. “They’ve really taken a shine to you, Jameson wants me to get some shots of you for the next issue.”

Wade’s brow furrowed. “But that’s Spiderman’s gig.”

“And you’re Spiderman now, don’t forget.”

“I guess…” Wade said. “Gee, I’m sorry for stealing your limelight, Spidey. I know how much you like to pose for the camera.”

Peter blushed despite himself. “You like to pose more than I do, asshat.”

Wade raised an eyebrow and finally smiled, making the world okay again. “That’s true.” He paused in thought. “I think this is an excellent idea, I’d love to give you an exclusive photo shoot, Peter Parker.” He reached down and pressed a kiss to his lips.

Peter knew Wade was doing everything to get away from Peter’s ‘hero’ comment, but he would let it slide. All he knew was that Wade had turned up at his door, _window,_ looking sullen and depressed and now he was smiling and flirting and excited and _happy._ And Peter would do anything in his power to facilitate such a good mood.

 

…

 

Wade sprawled out over Peter’s bed, katana’s still strapped to his back, guns at his hips, boots still on, mask freshly pulled over his face. The true Deadpool.

“Where do you want me?” He asked suggestively with humour in his voice, leaning against the headboard and stretching his arm up and around his neck, intentionally unintentionally flexing his muscles. Peter wanted to jump him right then and there but forced his shaking fingers to bring his camera to his eye and snap a shot of the deliciously stretched out Deadpool. His huge, muscular frame making Peter’s double bed look miniscule in comparison.

“Perfect.” Peter grinned. “ _Perfect_.”

“Really? Do you want me to move a bit…?”

“Spread your legs a little…” Peter laughed, unable to contain it. He watched as Wade pushed up onto his knees so he was effectively kneeling on Peter’s bed, gloved fingers looping through his ammunition belt and thrusting his crotch out, throwing his head back dramatically.

“Oh yeah, baby, work it.” Peter giggled, firing off shot after shot. “Make love to the camera.”

“I’d rather make love to the _cameraman_.” Wade admitted suggestively, grinning behind his mask. Peter’s mouth suddenly went dry and he had to force the camera in front of his face. They’d been together for months and months and months and he felt like Wade shouldn’t be able to get him as hot and as bothered as he did when they first started tentatively seeing each other but he still did, and he _knew_ he did as well, which was probably worse.

Oh how Wade knew what he did to Peter, he got off on it. He really did, not just because Peter still lusted after him the way he did when they met, and that fire hadn’t melted away, but because he did so when Wade looked the way did, _acted_ the way he did. Wade knew deep inside himself that he wasn’t good enough for Peter and was just grateful that the kid hadn’t worked it out himself yet.

He had often wondered secretly to himself if things would have been different had he met Peter before, when he was still beautiful and his kill streak was a little more self-contained. Maybe then they could be the perfect little couple. He’d never told Peter this before, of course, the kid hated when he did anything even remotely self-deprecating. Even now, he noticed the light die a little in Peter’s eyes when he hesitated to take his mask off or reveal any great part of himself to him, so he tried, he really tried to be less intimidated of Peter’s smooth, unscarred skin and soft locks, he tried to feel attractive in his own right. And, with Peter practically salivating in front of him now, shaking fingers keeping his camera to his face, he felt pretty damn attractive.

He smirked behind his mask as he took one of his guns from where it was strapped to his right thigh, checking with his fingers that the safety was on, before he ran the barrel down his tightly covered chest and over the soft bulge below his belt. He actually heard Peter gasp and suddenly the camera was gone, tumbling onto the edge of the bed and Wade had to force himself to stay quiet as he ran the tip of his gun over himself again, accidentally stimulating himself more than he meant to as he watched himself harden under his suit. But he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t stop, not with the look on Peter’s face and the way his big, bright, hungry eyes were zeroed in on his crotch.

Wade’s cock was clearly visible through his suit now, creating a long, thick bulge up the expanse of his abdomen and he dragged the cold side of his gun across the underside and ghosted over the tip, moaning loudly as he did so, partly because it felt good but partly because of the show he was putting on. And with the way Peter was staring at him like an animal in heat, he was pretty sure it was now time for his close up.

He moaned again, low in his throat and Peter actually whined.

“Fuck, Wade…” He choked out. “You’re gonna kill me…looks so fucking hot…”

“Then why…” Wade panted, running the tip of his gun lightly over himself so he was just tickling his sensitive flesh. “…Don’t you get that sweet ass of yours over here…hnngghh…and touch me…”

That was all Peter needed, evidentially, as he sprang like a panther and shoved Wade back onto the bed. Wade yelped as his mask was practically torn from his face and Peter was kissing him brutally, forcing his mouth open and suckling on his tongue until Wade was light-headed.

Wade wound his arms around Peter’s waist and up under his shirt, trailing along the straining muscles of his back.

Peter shivered as he felt Wade’s hands roaming all over him, swallowing his moans, feeling his straining cock pressed against his abdomen.

That display was, hands down, the hottest thing Peter had ever seen in his short time on planet Earth. Wade knew, hell, Deadpool knew how to press Peter’s buttons better than Peter did.

“Tell me, tell me what you want, babe.” Wade panted into his mouth, hands squeezing his ass.

But Peter pulled away and shook his head. “No, I don’t…I need you.”

“You’ve got me, Spidey.” Wade said, eyes gentle, always so gentle. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

Peter nodded mutely and leant down to press a lingering kiss to Wade’s lips before he slid down his body.

Wade’s head hit the pillows with a _whump_ and he let out a surprised ‘oh’ before he felt Peter’s hand rubbing him through his suit and his head shot back up again, pushing himself up onto his elbows and staring down at the younger man.

“Shit, Peter…you don’t have to do that…”

The look Peter gave him was nothing short of heart breaking.

“I _need_ it Wade. You can’t do something like that in front of me and then not let me suck you. That’s just not fair.”

Wade was caught in between being amused and being really fucking aroused. He opted for aroused and all but growled like a wild beast as Peter dropped his head and mouthed the tip of his hard dick wetly through his suit, leaving a damp patch.

“Oh, Christ…Peter…uhhhh!” Wade’s head hit the pillow as Peter licked a long line up the exposed underside of his cock, still trapped in the confines of his suit. Peter smiled as he watched Wade fall to pieces at the slightest ministrations, owing to Peter’s awareness of his extremely sensitive skin, but it wasn’t enough. Peter wanted to taste him.

He fumbled around the space between Wade’s legs until he came to the zipper hidden there. Ever since getting with Wade, Peter had often thought about how clever an idea that was, it would certainly make peeing quite a bit easier, but with his tight-fit look it might not be such a good idea. But Wade was clever, his suit was highly practical for his needs with proper combat boots and an ammunition belt and he had zippers and buckles everywhere, it was irresistibly attractive and highly practical, especially right now, as Peter pulled Wade’s hard, and almost intimidatingly big cock from its confines, so red and swollen it caused the small, embossed scars criss-crossed over the sensitive flesh to look white in comparison, so red and swollen that it almost looked painful, desperate for respite and Peter found himself genuinely salivating, to the point where his drool actually dripped onto the shining tip of Wade’s cock, entwining with the precome pooling there and Wade shivered.

“Ah, fuck, Peter…please…you’re gonna kill me…”

“With kindness, hopefully.” Peter teased, before he lowered his head down and suckled the tip of Wade’s straining member into his mouth and Wade bucked up into him instinctively. Peter pressed one hand firmly against the mercenary’s hip bone, applying just enough pressure to keep the bigger man in place before he lifted off of his cock, lapping his tongue along the underside for a moment, leaving a wet, glistening trail along the sensitive flesh and moaning in contentment as the scars there teased his tongue before glancing back up to Wade. He had a gloved fist shoved into his mouth in an attempt to stop himself from crying out.

“If you can’t keep still, I might have to web you down.” Peter teased and Wade groaned.

“Is that supposed to turn me off, Spidey? Because it’s doing the exact opposite.”

“Maybe it’s too much…” Peter mused playfully, acting as though deep in thought while distractedly jerking Wade’s cock, using his own spittle as lubricant. Wade moaned and shook beneath him. “Maybe I need to stop…”

“Don’t you dare stop! I will shoot you, you know I will!”

Peter smiled hugely. “Or maybe I need to use my webs for something else…to wrap around the base of your beautiful dick to stop you coming so soon…then I could ride you all night long and you could beg me for permission to come for hours and hours…”

“Jesus, shit, fuck…when did you get so good at dirty talk?” Wade asked breathlessly, clenching his fists into the sheets as Peter continued to jerk his cock lazily.

“I learned from the master.” Peter quipped before leaning back down and swallowing Wade’s cock, taking it as deep as he could and Wade roared.

“HHHHNNNNGGHHHH! SHIT! SHIT! You…uhhh…Peter…Peter!”

Peter swallowed again and again, the tip of Wade’s cock just dipping into his throat and Wade shook violently beneath him. Peter pulled back slightly, allowing a few inches of Wade’s cock to sit heavy on his tongue. He loved this, he adored this, having Wade’s huge, hard, wet, perfectly scarred cock in his mouth, so heavy and so full, he loved the smell, the taste, the heady manly musk of Wade, of Deadpool, he could suck Wade’s cock for days if he’d let him. He pulled off of him slightly, Wade keening as he slurped dirtily around him. As much as he wanted to deep throat his boyfriend forever, he did actually require air to live and merely let the tip of his swollen head rest against his tongue as he panted for breath.

Wade’s neck was sore from the way he had to angle his head lying down in order to see Peter but he didn’t care if he snapped it, he couldn’t bear to look away from him in this state, the boy was panting, salivating over his cock like he needed it to live. He had spittle dripping down his chin, eyes closed in sheer bliss. He thought he might come from that alone; let alone the down-right expert way he was sucking his dick. Wade had been blown hundreds of times before Peter had been born to him, both before he was Deadpool and during, what could he say? Getting his rocks off was one way to dull the pain and the voices in his head, but never had he been blown as brilliantly or as beautifully as Peter. It was like Peter treated his dick as some kind of ethereal being, like it spewed nectar instead of spunk, Peter may not have ever actually said the words _I love you_ but he proved them in every single move he made.

Peter was staring up at him now, head cocked slightly, his cock resting in his hand. “What?” He asked. “You’re staring.”

Wade blinked. “Because you’re beautiful.”

Peter blushed immediately, face breaking out into a smile before he dipped his head and swallowed Wade again, licking gently along the underside of his head, dipping his tongue into the slit as he gripped the base and gently massaged him to completion. Wade’s orgasm came to him like a dam bursting its banks. Deceivingly gentle and then powerful and explosive, shots of come shooting from him like fireworks. It was only then that Peter took the rest of Wade’s cock into his mouth, swallowing his come and moaning blissfully, sucking him through his orgasm. Wade collapsed against the bed, shaking uncontrollably, a string of moans falling from his lips as Peter sucked him unrelentingly, milking him of every last drop like it was made of gold and he didn’t want to waste any.

Wade shivered, hands flying to his face and covering his eyes as Peter finally let his cock slip free from the wet cavern of his mouth, twitching against his clothed abdomen. Peter glanced up at him, Wade’s gloved hands were covering his eyes, his whole body was trembling.

Peter stroked along Wade’s thighs comfortingly, sitting back onto his ankles and smiling affectionately down at him. A few moments later, Wade let his hands fall from his face and pushed himself up onto his elbows, staring at Peter.

“Welcome back.” Peter smiled.

“You’ve done it.” Wade said, breathless. “You’ve killed me. I’m dead. You’ve succeeded where millions before you have failed. You’ve bested countless super-villains and even the big C itself. I hope you’re happy.” He rubbed his head and sat up a little straighter.

Peter shook his head but grinned nonetheless. “You know, I would suck you off forever if I could, mainly because I love choking on your cock but also because it’s the only way I can shut you up.”

“Go back to the first part of the sentence.” Wade said, waggling his eyebrows.

Peter cocked an eyebrow and licked his lips, wet and swollen, and grinned. “What? About me loving to suck your cock? Loving it down my throat and resting heavy on my tongue, filling me up and coming down my throat until there’s more of you inside me than me…”

“Stop, stop. I’m gonna come again.” Wade said, he was laughing but his eyes were full of arousal. “You have to tell me how you do that.”

Peter smiled massively at him. He reached forward and took one of Wade’s gloved hands in his own and pulled him towards him. “You deserved it, I’m really proud of you. You’re a fantastic Spiderman.”

Wade grinned despite himself as he allowed himself to be pulled forward, leaning up to press a kiss to Peter’s swollen, shining lips. He could taste his own seed there and he growled as he pushed himself up onto his knees and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him flush against him.

“You’re so fucking hot like this, Peter, so desperate for my cock…I think it’s time for your close up now…”

Peter giggled as Wade pulled them down onto the bed and shouted out suddenly, stilling.

“What, what’s wrong?” Peter asked.

“Ow.” Was all Wade said, pulling a face. “What am I laying on?” He pushed a hand under his leg and pulled Peter’s discarded camera out from beneath him. “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that, I hope you got some good shots.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sell them to the Bugle.” Peter admitted honestly.

“But great for your own personal spank bank.” Wade said. “I’m safe in the knowledge that when I’m not here, you’ll be jerking yourself off over shots of me.” He turned the camera to the menu screen and began looking through the shots of himself, humming in approval. “I have always wanted to be a porn star.”

Peter laughed and was about to remark that he was a pretty good one before a flash went off in his face and he frowned. “Don’t take pictures of me.” He said.

“Why not? You’re beautiful.”

Peter crossed his arms. “Okay, fine, let me take a picture of you, then.”

Wade hesitated for a moment before he grinned.

“Compromise.” He said, launching forward and pressing a kiss to Peter’s cheek as he snapped the shot.

Peter squealed before wrangling the camera out of his hand and finding the picture on the playback screen. Wade was smiling into the kiss he was pressing to his cheek while Peter’s face was scrunched up in shock.

His face fell. “I look hideous.”

“You look adorable.”

“Hideous, Wade.”

“You are kidding? You’re not the one who looks like a rotting pancake.”

Peter hesitated as it occurred to him that he was complaining about his face to the man with the world’s biggest self-esteem issues. “Wade…don’t…”

Wade had a raised eyebrow and a grin on his face and Peter couldn’t be mad. He looked down at the picture again. He had always been a keen photographer and as such, was always trying to snap shots of Wade and the mercenary was all too happy to be in front of the camera with his mask on, but never with it off. He would either refuse outright or cover his face with whatever he was holding, laughing it off so Peter wouldn’t know he was embarrassed and Peter didn’t have the heart to press it. This picture on his playback screen was probably the only genuine shot he had of Wade in the world, he wouldn’t delete it if his life depended on it, regardless of how impressively bad he looked.

Suddenly it was his favourite photo in the world.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Thursday came relatively quickly and as Deadpool wandered around the shadowy back streets of New York, twiddling his gun around in his hand, he contemplated two things. One: that being on patrol without the ability to swing from buildings was actually kind of boring, and two: In a couple of days, his boyfriend would be done with his work and Wade could _stop being Spiderman._

It wasn’t Spiderman he had a problem with, it wasn’t even the 50% split he’d received in the media. The Bugle and various other news outlets thinking he was a shining golden God and the rest of the world thinking he was…well, Deadpool.

But it was the being good that was messing him up so much. Intentionally helping people he couldn’t give a flying fuck about, and intentionally refraining from hurting people he could give a flying fuck about. He felt like this should have occurred to him before, but he honestly thought he’d spend a couple days rescuing cats from trees and being worshipped by the city, not wandering around back alleys, just waiting for some fucking reporter to spring from the corner and demand his secret identity.

He’d also just had to explain to Steve that Peter hadn’t actually died, thinking that the Goblin or someone equally evil had taken him out and Wade had taken his mantel in some kind of revenge plan. It seemed like every single person assumed every move he made had to result in a blood bath and were treading eggshells around him, and didn’t trust him to look after the city. But he didn’t take it personally, he didn’t honestly trust himself and was surprised he hadn’t snapped and killed anyone yet. But…regardless how he felt, there were still two little girls who were still alive because of him. And that made it okay.

But still, all he needed was the right bad guy to jump from the shadows and he would happily tear him (or her, come on, Wade was all for equal opportunities) to absolute shreds.

“…The fuck?” Wade asked, looking up as he heard a strange, mechanical whirring noise above him. He was able to duck down just in time to narrowly avoid the approaching glider from slicing his head off.

“Oh, this prick…” Wade murmured to himself, sliding his gun back into his holster and sighing as he watched the new and improved Green Goblin atop his infamous glider, glad in a green-tinged metallic suit, mask covering the lower half of his face, glider touching down and hovering a few feet above the floor with the engines purring gently like a well-behaved Tiger.

“Hey there, Sexy.” Wade said.

“I’ve been looking for you.” The Goblin said menacingly, voice muffled slightly by the mask covering the lower half of his face. His eyes were alight with fire and rage. Deadpool was almost scared.

“Well, I’ve been looking for you, too, handsome.”

“I’m busy with Spiderman.” The Goblin continued, disregarding Wade’s sarcasm. “I don’t need another superhero in town.”

Wade cocked his head to the side as he regarded him. “Superhero? You’ve obviously never heard of me before. But that’s cool, I know you insane supervillain types, you’re not exactly famed for your social skills.”

The Goblin growled low in his throat.

“Do you need a lozenge?”

Then he snarled, full on snarled and Wade nearly jumped before he watched a panel of the glider slide back and suddenly something was being shot at him. He was expecting bullets and dived out of the way, not really caring if they struck gold or not considering it wasn’t exactly threatening, what he wasn’t expecting was a golden orb to latch itself deeply into his leg, metal prongs ripping through the strong Kevlar of his suit and through his mottled flesh.

“Ow.” He said. He momentarily wondered why sticking a ball in him, and all the double-entendres that entailed, was even remotely useful until it started to beep.

“Oh, shit!” He exclaimed, reaching immediately and grasping the bomb, trying to rip it from his skin but it was stuck tight. He was aware of the glider lifting off and soaring in the other direction and pulled harder, feeling his skin tearing as he ripped the blades embedded into the flesh of his leg slowly out of him, he hissed in both pain and accomplishment and then the bomb exploded.

He flung his arms in the other direction and crashed to the ground, blinded by pain so suddenly and so fiercely he thought he was going to pass out. His felt the bones in his leg shatter, he felt his flesh being burned and torn and imploded on itself, he felt his muscles twist and tear and disintegrate and his tendons snap, his nerve endings frying until he couldn’t feel pain anymore.

He breathed heavily, expecting more pain as the fire travelled up his body but it never came. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and looked down, groaning at the absolute mess of what remained of his mangled leg, twisted at an obscenely wrong angle, burnt bone sticking out of what was left of fried muscle and sinew and skin. Luckily, however, a mixture of the adrenalin, the shock, his naturally high threshold and his obliterated nerve endings meant that he felt more pain in his crotch than in his actual leg.

He allowed himself to fall onto his back and stared up at the cloudy night sky as he forced air into his lungs. That bomb, it must have only been short range. The Goblin wouldn’t have wasted a big explosion just to kill one guy, probably figured the pain would kill him or that he’d bleed out in a heartbeat.

“He really doesn’t know who I am.” Wade said, breathing heavily. He was surprised at how broken his voice sounded. He glanced down again and noticed the blood trickling out of his leg and onto the floor. He needed to bind himself up in some kind of way, plus with the odd way what remained of his bones were sticking out, he needed to realign them so they didn’t heal wrongly and he had to re-break them again and do it properly. Not to mention an injury this big was gonna take fucking ages to heal, he couldn’t stay out on the street. But then he was also pretty sure he couldn’t fucking move either.

“Fan-fucking-tastic.” He said to himself as he laid back down on his back, watching the trail of smoke left by the Goblin’s glider slowly disappearing in the air.

“Son of a bitch.” Wade muttered to himself, gritting his teeth. “You absolute fucking wank stain. Oh, I am so pissed! I hope you realise me not being able to move is your lucky fucking break, pal! The _only_ thing stopping me from following you and shoving one of your cute balls up your fucking _ass!”_

He sighed loudly to himself.

_Okay, bro. Are you gonna spend all night shouting at thin air or are you actually gonna try doing something?_

“Shut up.” He muttered, shoving himself onto his elbows so he was in a sitting position. He caught sight of his leg again and frowned. It hadn’t even remotely healed in the five minutes he’d been cursing at the Goblin. He looked like he’d gone through a plane turbine.

“Alright, D.P, you’ve gone through worse.” Wade muttered to himself, almost grateful to the voices in his head for their encouragement.

He took his attention off of his leg, if you could even call it that anymore, and looked around himself. He recognised cars and streetlights and knew he was only a block and a half away from Peter’s. He hadn’t been planning on staying on patrol for too much longer anyway and had merely been planning on going home because, come on, he did practically live at Pete’s now, precisely when the Goblin had shown.

A wave of unease suddenly went through him as he considered how close the Goblin had been to Peter’s apartment. Wade didn’t know an awful lot about Harry Osborne, but he knew he was rich and powerful and was certain that with enough man power he could discover Spiderman’s secret identity, and what chance would Peter have against him if he was caught off-guard?

_What chance would he have against him even if he wasn’t?_

_Yeah, fair point._ If Wade wasn’t very much mistaken, the Goblin had just thrown a fucking bomb at him. The only reason he was still alive right now was because he was Deadpool. Pete, Spiderman didn’t have those kinds of powers.

“Shit, I’ve been laughing off this Goblin thing but Peter’s in real danger.” Wade said out loud. “I’ve gotta do something, but not with this bastard leg.”

He looked down at his leg again and squinted as he noticed that his calf muscles seemed more fully formed than they did five minutes ago, and while his bone was still toast it was definitely an improvement.

Using the strength in both of his arms, he planted his hands on the floor and pushed himself up until he was on the foot that was still intact, his other leg was thankfully still attached but looked like a string of cooked sausages no one had bothered to separate and wouldn’t be able to cope with any pressure put on it anytime soon. Wade’s good leg began to wobble and he hopped over to the nearest wall and allowed himself to fall against it, breathing heavily.

_Come on, you have the advantage of adrenalin, plus you don’t want to stick around until your nerve endings heal. Use the wall if you have to, just get that ass of yours back to Peter’s and then you can die._

Plan in mind, Wade attempted to stick to the shadows as much as he could as he alternated between hopping and guiding himself along the wall as he inched himself nearer to Peter’s apartment. What generally took about 10 minutes’ walk ended up taking nearly an hour, and when Wade collapsed into the front door of Peter’s apartment block, hissing as he could feel the blood dripping down his leg, he was grateful that lazy old perv Peter called his landlord had fixed the elevator, because he knew he couldn’t take the stairs. Or at least, he really, really didn’t want to.

He opened the door of the elevator and fell inside, practically punching Peter’s floor number as he supported his shattered kneecap with his hands, half of the skin there was burnt off and he could see shards of the bone breaking through. It was truly disgusting and made him appreciate just how insane he was that he wasn’t vomiting all over the floor. Luckily for him, the elevator ride was devoid of other people, knowing they would just scream and run if they saw him.

As he felt the elevator slow down, he pushed himself up onto one leg again, using the railing to support himself, squelching in the pool of blood he’d left on the floor. He was beginning to get quite dizzy now with all the blood he’d lost, realising he’d probably left a nice sticky trail behind him.

He hammered his fist on Peter’s door and allowed himself to breathe and feel a sense of accomplishment.

The door was opened and Peter was stood there, in dull jeans and a blue button shirt, hair ruffled and looking wholly disinterested until his brain registered exactly what was going on in front of him.

“Oh, my God! Wade, Oh my God! Oh my God!”

“Hey, beautiful.” Wade greeted, using the hand that wasn’t propping himself against the wall to lift his mask slightly, smiling weakly at his startled boyfriend. “Mind if I impose?”

Peter shook his head as if to physically clear it from the shock before he opened the door wide. “Yeah, Oh my God. Get in here. I’m so sorry…do you need a hand to walk?”

Wade fumbled around and pressed his hand against the wall to brace himself as he hobbled inside when suddenly he had Peter’s arm circling his waist, pulling his other around his neck and he allowed his weight to fall against him, suitably supported by Spiderman’s strength and then he was being led in. He sighed almost in pleasure as he was finally able to take some weight off of his muscles until he noticed that Peter was leading him to his bed.

“Oh, Petey, no.”

“What? Would you rather the floor?” Peter asked, trying to sound sarcastic but voice wobbling with concern and distress.

“No, I just…” He glanced down at his mangled leg, bleeding onto the carpet and he flinched at that alone. “I don’t want to get blood on your sheets.” He said sheepishly.

He caught Peter’s eye and he looked like Wade had just kicked his puppy.

“Wade, shut the fuck up and get on the god damn bed.”

Wade shut up and allowed himself to be gently deposited on the bed they had shared many a moon, sufficiently submissive. Peter didn’t swear often, only really during sex, so when he did, Wade knew he meant business and didn’t dare question him.

Peter knelt next to him and helped him lift his leg onto the bed, tears spilling from his wide eyes and Wade’s heart hurt.

“Sweetheart…” He said, gloved hand finding Peter’s face and stroking gently, surprising himself with his own tenderness. Peter nuzzled into his hand for a moment before attempting a smile, eyes still swimming in moisture.

“I’m…sorry…” He said, voice breaking on every syllable. “It’s…just…” He gestured redundantly to his leg and Wade nodded, in the light it looked even worse, his knee cap was shattered and spearing through his skin, his shin bone was visible and burned black and sticking out at an odd angle, his muscles were ripped into ribbons and bleeding profusely and a tang of meat was in the air.

“Yeah, I know, it’s disgusting. I’m sorry for showing you, but I didn’t really… you know…have anywhere…”

“Wade…” Peter grabbed his head suddenly, pulling his mask gently from his head and revealing his gentle eyes. “Don’t apologise. It’s okay, whenever something is wrong, _whatever it is,_ I want you to come to me, okay?”

Wade nodded and settled back, feeling inexplicably good at the sudden comfort. “I don’t suppose you have any bandages or anything? I need to set it…”

“Yeah, yeah…” Peter nodded, standing and crossing the room and coming back with a first aid kit and a long wooden splint.

“I get beaten up every day, and I can’t heal so I’m like a walking pharmacy.”

“You actually have a splint as well, you are prepared.”

“A burglar broke my leg, once. Long story.” Peter muttered as he knelt back down besides Wade, going quickly to work stemming the blood flow and placing the splint next to the broken bone.

“You don’t have to do that, Pete. I know I…”

Peter smiled shallowly at him. “It’s okay, it will hurt though and I’m sorry.”

Wade nodded as Peter bound the splint to the bone, wincing as he heard the crunch as the bone was lined up. Wade let out a small breath as Peter bandaged the rest of his leg, keeping the blood where it should be. Now they played the waiting game.

“Does it hurt?” Peter asked.

Wade shook his head. “Not yet, nerves are fried, it’ll heal soon, though. I’ve been injured way worse than this. Still hurts, though.”

“Same.” Peter said, quietly nodding but still looking distressed, still knelt by Wade’s bedside like a nurse or something.

He rubbed his hands comfortingly along Wade’s arm, pressing gentle kisses wherever he could. “Can…can I…do you need anything? Pillows? Food? Err…”

Wade shook his head. “No, just time. And you.”

Peter smiled then, genuinely smiled and Wade felt a hundred times better.

“Come here.” He said, pulling gently on Peter’s arm.

Peter hesitated for a moment before he stood, carefully manoeuvring his leg until he was straddling Wade’s lap, narrowly avoiding his leg. Wade stared up at him for a moment before he slowly, very slowly, peeled his gloves off of his hands and left them beside himself. Peter stared down at Wade’s bare hands, broad and strong like the rest of him, discoloured and scarred like the rest of him. Perfect like the rest of him.

Wade then carefully, hesitantly, reached up, pausing in the air and Peter understood. It was an invitation, telling Peter he only had to take his hands if he wanted to.

Peter smiled, eyes so visibly full of love and affection he failed to understand how Wade still thought he was ugly, before slipping his hands into Wade’s and holding them tight.

Wade smiled as their eyes met, massaging the backs of Peter’s hands with his long fingers before making a contented noise low in his throat.

“Feeling better?” Peter asked.

“Much better.” Wade murmured. “I’m almost glad this could take a while, ‘cause I don’t fancy moving any time soon.”

Peter grinned but sobered quickly. “So…what happened?”

“I fell over a bird.”

Peter wanted to glare but laughed a little despite himself. “Seriously, though, Wade. Who did this to you?”

Wade was joking around because he was Wade, yes, but also because he was reluctant to admit what had actually happened.

He knew that Harry Osborne was Peter’s friend, and that’s why no one had killed him yet. But seeing Peter’s concerned face looking down at him, he knew he couldn’t lie.

“…Your Goblin.” He finally admitted.

It was like the light had gone out in Peter’s eyes and his entire face fell. “Oh, Harry…” He said to himself, eyes falling from Wade’s as if he was ashamed to look at him.

“So he still doesn’t know that you’re Spiderman, then?” He asked redundantly.

“I don’t know how the hell to tell him.” Peter admitted miserably. “He thinks I killed his father.”

“He thinks he killed me, if that helps.” Wade told him. “I don’t think he knows who I am.”

“He nearly did.” Peter told him with raised eyebrows.

“Nah,” Wade scoffed. “It’ll take more than that to take me down, baby.” He gasped suddenly and looked down instinctively, Peter inclined his head to Wade’s leg and noticed the sinews slowly beginning regrow and sew themselves back together. He must have been staring for longer than normal because when he looked back to Wade, the older man was staring sheepishly at him.

“I know, it’s disgusting.” He said.

“No, I…I think it’s pretty incredible, actually.” Peter admitted, swearing that he saw a pale blush settle on Wade’s cheeks.

Peter frowned. “This isn’t taking longer than usual, is it?” He asked.

Wade shook his head. “No. I lost my hand once and that took a whole day to grow back.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Do I want to know?”

Wade laughed. “Probably not.”

Peter pulled one of his hands from Wade’s and began massaging gentle circles on his clothed chest. Wade moaned.

“You have no idea how good that feels.”

“Really, just my hand?”

“Oh, baby boy, your hand can do wonders on its own. But yeah, I did get bombed earlier, in comparison this is heaven.”

Peter smiled and bit his lip far too seductively than was really necessary.

“So…we’re gonna be stuck here for a while then?”

Wade raised an eyebrow but played along. “Looks like it, Spidey. I can’t do much moving.”

“Oh, I’m sure I can find it in my reserves to do most of the moving for you…” Peter admitted, not-so-subtly grinding his hips down onto Wade’s clothed crotch, Wade’s bare hands settled firmly on Peter’s hips and the younger superhero smiled that beautiful smile of his before he leant down and captured Wade’s mouth in a kiss.

 

…

 

Peter moaned blearily as his sensitive hole was stretched around Wade’s thick cock, rocking his hips gently, anything to accommodate the addictive burn searing through his ass as Wade thrust up gently to meet him in the capacity his leg allowed him to. The mercenary pushed himself up into a sitting position, depositing Peter fully into his lap, impaling the smaller man onto his thick cock and Peter trembled, letting out a strangled cry as he clung onto Wade, hands scrabbling for purchase around his neck, knocking the swords strapped there. Wade was effectively trapped in his suit until his leg healed but they’d been so desperate for each other that they wouldn’t have had time anyway, Peter’s jeans were across the room but his blue shirt still clung to him, sopping with sweat, his hair was mussed where Wade was raking his fingers through it, his mouth slack, lips swollen and totally destroyed where Wade was fucking him with his tongue in time with Peter riding him desperately, thrusts both lax and erratic at the same time, slow and hard, letting gravity pull him down until Wade’s cock was dragging over his prostate and making him see stars as drool dribbled from his mouth and down Wade’s neck.

Wade growled as he settled his hands on Peter’s knees, sweeping them up his thighs. Peter bucked as the scars on Wade’s bare hands teased the sensitive flesh of his inner thighs before they settled on his hips, forcing him into a brutal rhythm, bringing the younger man down onto his thick cock over and over again until broken moans were spilling uncontrollably from Peter’s mouth and a continuous stream of precome was spilling from his shining head. It looked delicious, it looked delectable and all Wade wanted to do was suckle the head into his mouth, taste Peter’s orgasm from the source and would have happily broken his other leg to do so but instead surged up and kissed Peter again, swallowing his moans and whimpers as he drove his cock harder up into him, feeling Peter’s whole body trembling against him, eyes closing in pure, desperate ecstasy. He took a hand from Peter’s hip and wrapped it around his rock hard cock, stroking slowly along the sensitive flesh, twisting at his swollen head, the scars on this skin dragging against him and Peter was screaming, crying and coming into his hand like he’d never come before, ropes of thick, white liquid shooting from him like Wade had never seen before. Peter clung to Wade as his ass clenched tightly around Wade’s cock, suffocating him until his come was being milked from him and he fell back against the bed, wrung out like Peter had milked the life from him and not just the spunk.

But, despite the sheer amount of come Peter had spurted on him, it was like he wasn’t done yet. His eyes opened and met Wade’s, hands bracing themselves on the mercenary’s broad chest as he continued to rock his hips, to lift himself and drop himself down, continued to _move._ Wade’s hands scrambled and twisted into Peter’s sheets, anything to stop himself from bucking up uncontrollably and hurting him, or hurting _himself_ again because he couldn’t feel the pain right now, all he could feel was Peter’s tight heat stimulating his sensitive cock, polishing him and suffocating him and demanding more when he had nothing else to give. His spent head brushed against Peter’s swollen prostate again and again and he thought he was going to fucking _die._ He was teetering on the verge of being overwhelmed and being in actual pain, feeling so _good_ but so _raw,_ like Peter was riding a nerve ending rather than his dick. But Peter looked so blissed out above him that like hell was Wade gonna beg him to stop like he wanted to. He cried out suddenly as a second orgasm was pulled from him, spurting inside Peter’s ass and forcing a few measly droplets of come from Peter’s own cock.

“Shit, shit…” Wade breathed heavily as Peter stilled, his entire body shaking over Wade’s, breath coming out in heavy, breathless gasps and Wade covered his eyes, trembling, Peter’s ass still lax around him. He knew if he shifted even a centimetre that would be it, he would transcend and pass into the ether.

Peter opened his eyes, seeing Wade shivering beneath him and couldn’t help smiling smugly. “And here’s me thinking you’re such a stallion.” He remarked, tongue in cheek, as he regarded the wrecked form beneath him.

Wade cracked an eye open and cocked an eyebrow up at him, he could still feel Peter trembling beneath his fingertips and knew he wasn’t the only one close to the edge. He also knew that one day he would mature enough that his pride wouldn’t constantly get the better of him, but today was not that day.

“You underestimate me?” He asked. “I’ll show you how much of a stallion I am.”

He sat back up slowly, causing his cock, still very much imbedded deeply in Peter’s ass, to shift inside of him and Peter gasped sharply, thigh muscles quivering.

Wade gently stroked along Peter’s dick with his fingertips, the lightest stimulation causing it to jolt and Peter’s hand was on his wrist, stilling him.

Wade desisted but that didn’t stop him from wrapping his arms around Peter’s waist, thrusting up shallowly into him. His cock was screaming at him but he forced himself to continue, addicted to the way Peter’s hole was quivering with each slide in and out. Peter clung to him, trembling at the over-stimulation to his sensitive prostate. “S…stop…Wade…s..stt…uhh.” Peter begged gently, with no real agenda. “I can’t take it…” He whimpered, but his hips were rolling instinctively albeit very, very gently to meet Wade’s thrusts. Wade loved how he could take Peter to pieces like this, and would never be above showing him he could each and every time the superhero doubted it. Peter began to mouth Wade’s bare neck wetly, brain completely addled in his over-sensitive, highly stimulated state and the world was going hazy before Wade’s eyes. Perhaps they were transcending together.

A loud _crack_ reverberated around the room, bringing them back to the real world with a slamming halt.

“MOTHERFUCKER!” Wade shouted out, causing Peter to gasp.

“Shit…are you okay?” Peter asked, voice hoarse from doing nothing but moaning for the last half hour or however long they’d been fucking.

“Yeah, sorry.” Wade said sheepishly. “I think…I think my bone just realigned.”

Peter stared down at him for the longest moment, looking completely fucked, before he dissolved into laughter and hugged Wade, bringing the mercenary as close to him as he possibly could.

Wade laughed too, Peter’s giggles infectious, and held him right back as he felt blood flooding back into his healing appendage and a flash of pain shooting through his new nerve endings.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Friday came and Wade thought it was finally over but it was possibly the busiest day of his week. He’d busted two convenience store thefts before lunch – his mistake being that he forgot to wait for the police to arrive the first time so the crooks just hit up the next store they came across – although that had been quite sweet because the shop owner had stopped him on his way out and mumbled ‘was wrong about you’ before going back to his employees, Deadpool couldn’t help grinning on his way out.

Some little kids playing in the street nearly got mowed down by some speed racers, the mom’s screaming at the roadside but you’no, _not actually running in the road to get them back,_ so Wade had been a good little Spiderman and sped across the road, scooping the kids up and depositing them on the sidewalk and strolling back into the road, staring at the speed racers now a few metres in front before shooting out their rear windows, dragging them from the car, frogmarching them back to the mom’s and their kids and making them apologise. One of the moms looked absolutely horrified but the other one had said ‘right on’ and high-fived him and Wade considered that a success.

Some teen who looked a little like Peter in all his nerd glory was mugged in a side street, Wade didn’t even step in for that one. He just hung around at the corner, unsheathing a katana and twizzling it ‘round in his hand like a baton before coughing ever-so-daintily. The two jocks stopped beating the crap out of the kid and taking his backpack and turned to him, eyes widening at just at the sight of him.

“Leave the cutie alone.” Was all he said, not even in a particularly threatening voice, and the two began to scream and run in the other direction, dropping the kid’s backpack on the way before they were gone.

Wade cocked his head to the side as he watched them disappear, certain that they would have put up more of a fight, cocky teenagers tended to do that.

He merely shrugged and deposited his katana back onto his back before bending down and picking the kid’s backpack from the floor and walking over to where he was cowering against the wall. He was half-worried he was going to get a repeat of the pretty woman from the other day but the teen merely righted himself against the wall, straightened his glasses and accepted his backpack back.

“Thanks.” He said.

“No worries, kid.” Wade said, giving him a mini-salute before turning to walk away.

“Wait, you’re Deadpool, right?”

Wade halted and turned back, seeing the kid staring inquisitively at him. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“Is…umm…is he okay?”

Wade’s brow furrowed behind his mask. “Who, kid?”

“Spiderman. I mean, I kind of get it, suddenly one of the scariest heroes out there is saving people and Spiderman hasn’t been around for a few days. I figured, you were helping him.”

Wade chuckled. “You like your comics, don’t you, kid?”

He nodded.

“Spiderman is just fine; I’m just helping him out for a bit. Soon enough I’ll be back to my evil old self, don’t you worry.”

The kid shook his head and Wade wondered what he could possibly be disagreeing with until he said: “You’re not evil.”

Deadpool deadpanned.

“Say what?”

“You’re not.” The kid told him resolutely. “You wouldn’t be part of the Avengers if you were. If being bullied has taught be anything then it’s that not everyone who is brave is particularly strong in the same way that not everyone who is good is particularly nice. You might be an anti-hero but you’re not evil. You just saved me. And you’re helping Spiderman, he wouldn’t be your friend if you were evil.”

Wade hesitated, he didn’t know if it was because this random kid was oddly wise or if it was because this random kid looked a little like Peter but he found himself agreeing.

“No, I guess he wouldn’t, kid. Nice to meet a fan. You better get on home before your parents start worrying about you.”

The kid nodded before shouldering his backpack. “Nice to meet you.” He said before he left the side-street and was gone.

“Nice to meet you, too. Kid.” He said quietly.

 

…

 

It was moving into evening, the days getting shorter as they got closer to Winter but Wade didn’t mind, he didn’t particularly mind the dark.

He scaled a fence and dropped into a long-since abandoned car park, aware this was a hot spot for trouble and crime because of its location situated on the edge of the city, but it felt odd coming to stop it rather than to get involved with it. (If Peter asked, he most certainly _did not_ bet on illegal cock fights in this very spot.)

He heard an all too familiar soaring sound and turned to see the glider a few stories above, flying around without agenda and then suddenly the Goblin was cackling: “The itsy bitsy Spiderman wants to come out and plaaay?”

“This guy is straight outta the cracker factory.” Wade said to himself.

_I think he might be crazier than you._

_Ha. No wonder Peter likes him so much._

“Shut up.” Wade said, fingering his gun in its holster as he contemplated just ending this right now. Sure, Peter would be pissed but then he would be safe. Whatever insanity-virus powers this prick had, he was no match for Deadpool.

With that in mind, he began to wave his arms around manically in the air. “Yoo hoo! Gobby! Over here!”

He watched as the glider swivelled in the air and paused, and then it was, well, _gliding_ over to him and he tried his best to puff out his chest and appear bigger than he was. Not that the Goblin wasn’t so slight practically two of him could fit inside Deadpool, but because he really wanted to scare this guy. Mess with Spiderman? Not on his watch.

The glider landed a few feet in front of him and the Goblin stepped off, all green armour and mist, and walked towards him, his mechanical mask pulling back to reveal the Harry Osborne beneath.

Wade looked him up and down. “That shit has to be heavy.” He remarked.

“You’re supposed to be dead.” The Goblin said, surprise evident in his hardened voice.

Wade chuckled as he crossed his arms, flexing his bulging biceps. “I ain’t exactly easy to kill.”

The Goblin bared his teeth like some kind of animal. “I’ll just have to try again, then!” He exclaimed, raising his arm. Layers of dangerous-looking, metallic spikes protruded through the armour at his forearm and he slashed at Wade’s throat. Wade stepped back quickly and reached for his gun as the Goblin slashed again, those blades dangerously close to his face and was just about to send out a kick to his abdomen when…

“Waahooo!”

The pair of them paused in their battle and turned to see Peter, scratch that, _Spiderman_ swinging into view, sending a web out to the nearest building and swinging down until he touched down in the abandoned car park, a flash of red and blue, launching himself into an impressive flip, propelling himself with his hands and crashing directly into the Green Goblin, effectively taking him out of Deadpool’s path and sailing through the air. Wade watched his Spiderman in action with a smile on his face.

Apparently the force of Spiderman’s collision had knocked the Goblin unconscious and Spiderman let him carefully to the ground, Wade regarded the tenderness in the action and immediately regretted his earlier plan to kill him. Spiderman turned to Deadpool, walking a few paces until they were face to face and pulled his mask off of his face, smiling a beautifully exhilarated smile.

“Hey, beautiful.” Wade greeted.

“Hey, yourself.” Peter replied. “I’ve missed this.”

“You’re incredible, Spiderman. I hope you appreciate that.”

Peter blushed and ran a hand embarrassedly through his messy hair. “Oh, shut up…”

A mechanical whir brought them back and they both turned to see the Goblin, mask still down, atop his glider, apparently not so unconscious after all, and Deadpool recognised the same panel move back and the same golden orb shooting out, directly at Peter.

“No!” He shouted out.

Peter, however, was already on it and sent a web in the bomb’s direction, catching it with perfect aim and swinging it in the other direction. The short range bomb exploded a few feet away, making a chasm in the cracked concrete of the abandoned parking lot, causing dust and dirt to lift into the air.

Then a barrage of bombs were being shot at them.

“Get down!” Deadpool screamed and Peter dropped to the floor as Deadpool pulled his katana’s from his back in one swift movement, creating a shield in front of himself and deflecting all three of the new bombs, two into the ground a few feet away, the explosions causing more dirt and dust to rise in the air, creating a heavy fog that was hard to see through, and he angled his Katana so the final bomb was deflected towards the Goblin, towards Harry.

Despite the heavy fog, however, Peter sensed Wade’s plan and he sprang to his feet immediately.

“No, Wade, don’t kill him!” He screamed, sending a web to the bomb on a beeline course for Harry and yanking it back unthinkingly towards himself.

“Peter, fuck, no!” Wade called out, launching himself at Peter and forcing him to the ground, covering the smaller man’s body with his own. He felt his own back scorch as his flesh was burnt off by the explosion but he clamped his mouth shut, riding through the pain, making sure that not an inch of Peter’s body was exposed to the fire.

It became eerily quiet rather suddenly and the fog around them still fell heavily as the dirt struggled to clear in the night air, it felt like they were stuck inside their own private bubble and no one else was welcome.

Forcing himself to find strength, Wade planted his arms on the ground and pushed himself off of Peter, the movement disturbing his burnt back, and he held himself a few inches from Peter, their legs still entangled and abdomens pressed against each other.

Peter was, thankfully, unharmed and staring up at Wade with concern in his eyes. He pulled his arm out from between them and placed his hand on Wade’s cheek, through his mask, unable to take his eyes off of him, as if assuring himself that Wade was still there, that he wasn’t hurt, that he was alive.

“I’m sorry, Wade.” Peter whispered, his wide eyes saying more than his mouth ever could.

“It’s okay, babe, it’s okay.” Wade assured him, letting his head fall under Peter’s chin, nuzzling into his neck, totally submissive. “Holy crap, I thought you were gonna die.” He continued, voice weak.

“We’re okay, we’re both okay.” Peter assured him, encircling his arms around him, fingers finding the scorch marks in his skin. Wade winced and Peter pulled his hands away immediately.

“Oh, your back…!”

“It’s nothing, Spidey, it’ll…”

The pair of them stilled as they heard the whirring of the glider somewhere in the dust-fog. Wade sprang to his feet, his back complaining at him, pulling Peter up with him and the pair twisted until they were back to back, looking around, desperate to see anything through the dust-fog.

They could hear the glider but they couldn’t see it, they couldn’t see anything. But then they couldn’t hear anything.

It went dangerously quiet and didn’t fool Spiderman or Deadpool for a single second, they kept their guards up, still scanning the area for any movement and then something became visible in the fog.

Several, more than several, of the Goblin’s little gadgets were soaring at them, sharp blades protruding from the small orbs as they sailed through the air. Spiderman had seen them before and knew precisely how sharp they were, a scar on his arm a visible reminder, Deadpool didn’t but was pretty sure he could guess.

Peter began to shoot webs in earnest, the webs tangling with the blades protruding from the orbs and making them useless, causing them to fall to the ground, Wade snatched his katana’s from where he’d dropped them on the floor and deflected all the little slicey balls that came near him somewhere into the fog, hopefully in the path of the Goblin.

The dirt-fog was just beginning to clear as they took out the last of them and then the glider was slicing through the air, the Goblin sending out an arm and grabbing Peter’s wrist and lifting him off of the ground. On pure instinct alone, Wade sent the blade of one of his katana’s into the air, it pierced the bottom of the glider and sparks flew from the machine as he sliced through its motherboard, rendering it nicely broken. The Goblin wasn’t expecting the sudden malfunction and then both him and Peter were flying through the air and rolling on the ground, coming to a natural stop a few feet from Wade and the broken glider. The dirt-fog was now clearing quite substantially and Wade could see them both lying on the ground, Peter already getting to his feet. The Goblin just lying there, but that hadn’t been the first time he’d feigned unconsciousness.

Now Deadpool was pissed, and he walked over to where the pair of the them were lying on the ground, sheathing one katana on his back and keeping the other in his grip.

“Alright, little Goblin, you’ve officially used up any mercy I had left.”

“No, Wade, don’t kill him!” Peter scolded, springing to his feet.

“Pete?” Came Harry’s voice. Peter froze as the Goblin, Harry, stood, waving his hands in front of his face in an attempt to clear what remained of the fog, getting a clear look at Peter’s unmasked face for the first time that evening. The pair stared silently at each other for a long moment.

But Deadpool was passed their cute little reunion and was grateful for the Goblin’s little distraction, he slashed his katana out, knowing it would hit him directly in the chest.

Peter’s spider-sense alerted him to the danger and he turned just in time to see the sword, eyes widening in fear as it came closer to Harry’s chest, it felt like everything was in slow motion for a moment and Peter lashed his arm out, attempting to push the weapon away but coming in too soon, and then the katana was slicing across his skin, leaving a deep, bleeding gash across his forearm in its wake.

Peter cried out, both in pain and in shock, and collapsed onto the ground.

The fog cleared from the air and from Wade’s mind, revealing the shocked face of Harry Osborne and Peter collapsed to the ground, cradling a bloody arm. The anger drained away completely and Wade was on his knees at Peter’s side, katana cluttering to the ground and ignoring his back screaming at him as the slowly healing skin was torn anew. Blood was gushing onto the floor and Peter was holding his arm into himself as if it were a new born baby he needed to protect.

Gently, as if afraid to touch him, Wade reached his gloved hand out and stroked Peter’s hair gently, causing the younger man to look up at him. “Are you okay?” He asked softly, afraid of his own voice.

Peter nodded, pain clear on his face but he was attempting an assuring smile.

“Show me.” Wade urged gently. Peter hesitated for a moment before he extended his arm out to Wade who supported it gently, wincing as he got a good look at the cut. It was deep, very deep, and a good two or more inches in length, cutting across the expanse of his forearm.

“It’s okay.” Peter assured him, “I’ve had worse. It’s not life-threatening.”

Wade couldn’t stop staring, expression unreadable but Peter knew what he was thinking.

“Wade, I’m fine.” He assured him again.

“Pete…”

They both turned to see Harry stood there, suddenly looking so small and not even remotely intimidating, eyes full of emotion.

“Harry…” Peter said, staring back at him like he had nothing to say but his name, effectively breaking the little bubble between himself and Wade and Wade stood immediately, backing away, everything he’d just done rushing to him. He’d been so blinded by his rage and his fucking need to hurt people that he’d hurt Peter.

He’d _hurt_ Peter. _Fuck._

Peter’s quizzical eyes were back on him immediately. “Why are you…moving…away?” He asked, sounding so damn innocent that Wade couldn’t bare it. He stole away into the dark, disappearing into the shadows in a second and then he was gone.

Peter blinked, unsure what had just happened, his blood loss making him woozy. All he knew was that Wade’s comforting weight and warmth had been next to him a moment ago and now he was gone.

“Here, let me help you up…” Harry was saying, kneeling down beside him and helping him to his feet. His arm hurt, but wasn’t bleeding as badly as before, he held it tight against his body as Harry helped to right him. 

“Thank you…” Peter said quietly, a little embarrassed to catch Harry’s eye.

“Listen, Harry…” Peter sighed. “Your father, he was trying to kill me and I moved out of the way, he accidentally killed himself. I…I know if I reacted more quickly I might have been able to save him but I don’t know…I’m sorry.”

“You just saved my life.” Was all Harry said.

Peter shrugged. “Of course I did. I love you. You’re my best friend.”

“Still?” Harry asked.

Peter nodded.

“Pete, you’re Spiderman.”

Peter attempted a small smile. “Yeah, I know. I wanted to tell you so many times but it’s difficult.”

“No, I…understand. Listen, let me call a car…we can get you to the emergency room.”

Any other time, Peter might have declined but he didn’t want to. He wanted to spend some time with Harry, out in the open where he had nothing to hide. It was oddly relieving.

“Yeah, okay.” He nodded. “Thanks. Just…let me change okay?”

…

 

Once the pair of them were kitted out in normal clothes, Peter’s arm bound in a makeshift bandage, Harry called for one of his many vehicles and after a few minutes of chatting on the roadside, a Bentley complete with driver pulled up. The pair climbed into the back, Harry supporting Peter who was getting pretty weak with his blood loss, thankfully a dark screen separated them from the driver so they could talk in peace.

“How did it happen?” Harry asked. “Have you always been this way?”

Peter shook his head. “No. It’s a long story, I got bitten by one of those super-spiders and instead of killing me it did this. Happy accident, really.”

“I thought something had happened to him, you know, Spiderman. He, you, weren’t around for a few days.”

“No.” Peter said, cradling his arm against his body. “No, I’ve just been a bit busy with college, that’s all. W…err, Deadpool was giving me a hand.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “He gave you more than that.”

“Yeah.” Peter said quietly, glancing down at the make-shift bandage on his forearm, slowly staining red with the blood that was seeping through.

“Hey, sorry for all the questions.” Said Harry. “I get your preoccupied with your arm, it must be killing.”

“Oh, yeah…” Peter tailed off. But in all honesty, it wasn’t his arm he was preoccupied with, it was Wade. He couldn’t unsee the way Wade had backed away from him like he was afraid of himself, and the way he’d turned and just disappeared when the only thing Peter wanted was him there with him. Peter was worried, he knew that wherever Wade was, he was blaming himself, probably feeling responsible for what had happened.

His arm twinged again and Peter hissed in pain.

_He is responsible, though._ A little voice in his head decided to chip in.

Peter sighed.

It only took another couple of minutes for them to reach the emergency room and they must have been sat in the waiting room for over an hour, surrounded by people with injuries with varying degrees of severity. One man across the room was holding his stomach and groaning while another had a blood-soaked bandage wrapped around a bleeding stump where a leg used to be.

Peter winced as Harry helped him sit down and then they had to wait their turn.

“You don’t have to wait here with me.” Peter told him honestly, feeling guilty, but Harry merely brushed him off.

“It’s okay, this is all my fault anyway, I owe you an apology.”

“No, you don’t.” Peter said, staring at the ground. “You were just doing what you thought was right. I went after the guy who killed my Uncle Ben just like you went after me for your father, I can’t judge you.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t kill my father.” Harry said, dropping his voice so people around wouldn’t hear them. “I believe you.”

“Really?” Peter asked, looking up at him.

“Yeah, Pete. You’re my best friend, you loved my father. I know you wouldn’t intentionally hurt him. You saved me today when I was trying to hurt you, and when I was trying to hurt that freak.”

Peter’s eyes hit the ground. “Please don’t call him a freak, Harry. Please.”

He sounded so dejected that Harry almost questioned it but decided that it wasn’t important.

“No, sorry, I…I’m just glad I know the truth about you now.” He admitted, changing the subject.

Peter smiled slightly. “Yeah, same. It’s kind of refreshing having someone know.”

“I feel like a bit of a dumbass.” Harry admitted, sitting back in his chair and grinning. “It explains so much, I feel like I should have figured it out by now.” 

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, it’s just you and the whole of New York.”

They giggled quietly.

“So, if I got bit by a fly would it give me wings? ‘Cause that would be pretty cool.”

“I doubt it.”

“What about a moth?”

“Harry…?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

 

…

 

The nurse gave him several deep stitches and admonished him for hurting himself so badly. Peter sat and dutifully took the criticism, just glad he wasn’t going to get hepatitis and have his arm amputated or something.

“You’ll need to wear this sling.” The nurse had said, resting his arm into the gauze strapped around his neck. “At least until tomorrow morning, just to regulate the steady blood flow. And try and have something sugary, you look a little weak there, sweetheart.”

Peter had thanked her profusely and then they’d left, Harry bought him a fizzy drink from one of the hospital vending machines and after a few swigs he was feeling exponentially better.

“I’ll take you home.” Harry assured him. “Make sure you get some rest, and call Aunt May.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Anything else, Mother?” He asked sarcastically.

Harry grinned. “Well, I feel duty-bound to tell you how sexy you look in that sling.”

Peter shook his head and allowed himself to be dropped back to his apartment. He waved Harry off and took the elevator, too tired for the stairs, and felt happy, happier than he’d felt in a long while. It felt like he had his best friend back and that meant the world to him.

But what he really wanted right now was his boyfriend back, so that he could hit him for being such a dumbass and kiss him for being such a sweet dumbass. So when Peter opened his door, half-expecting to see Wade stretched out on his bed with a teddy bear and a get well soon card, his heart fell in his chest at the cold, empty apartment that greeted him.

“Oh.” He said.

He remembered the nurse’s advice to eat and drink but he didn’t want to be awake anymore, he was done with this day.

Instead, he toed his shoes off, shimmying his jeans to the ground and it took him a full ten minutes to pull his shirt off over his head, avoiding his sling.

Clad only in his boxers and feeling sufficiently sullen, he pulled back the covers to his bed one handed and slipped inside, greeted by the cold sheets, arm sore as he elevated it off of the bed.

It only took a few seconds of shivering before he clambered out of bed again, wishing he had healing powers as well.

At the thought, he searched around for a moment until he came across what he was searching for. Because Wade’s white shirt was so much bigger on him, it was easy to slip it over his head, barely disturbing his sling.

But the best part about it was that it smelled of Wade, enclosing Peter in immediate warmth and comfort. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or just more depressing, it just highlighted how much he dearly wished Wade were right there with him, holding him and keeping him warm like normal, like he was used to.

Because Wade did look after Peter like he was a child, Peter admonished him but he secretly loved it, and he knew Wade knew he loved it. It was a side effect of being a superhero, being taken care of was particularly appealing, especially by someone like Deadpool, someone who could tear you apart but chose not to.

Peter glanced down at his bandaged arm and the sling it was nestled in and hesitated. He remembered his earlier thoughts, about how Wade was like a caged beast that only he could control. But what if he’d gotten it wrong? What if he couldn’t control him? It had been an accident; Wade hadn’t meant to hurt him. But he had, nothing could change that. If he’d been any more aggressive, Peter wouldn’t have an arm right now.

Peter had never been more at war with himself as he was right now. He wanted to blame Wade, he wanted to forgive him, he wanted…

“I just want you here, you big idiot.” Peter said irritably, collapsing onto the chair in his desk. He couldn’t lie down, it hurt his arm too much.

He caught sight of his camera abandoned on his desk and picked it up, switching it on one-handed and sighing. He’d been incapacitated for all of about five minutes and he’d already had enough.

He flipped the camera and began searching through the playback screen, flicking through the revised pictures of Deadpool in action, currently adorning the front cover of the Daily Bugle, blushing as he remembered the other pictures of Deadpool _in action_ that he prayed would never get past their bedroom, until he came upon the picture he was searching for.

The only picture of Wade he had. It was this picture, and this shirt. It was all he had, the only reminders that Wade was a part of his life at all. They’d been together too long and there was something deeply wrong about that fact. But then he supposed there would be no way he could ever forget about him. Wade was too special, he meant to much to him.

He looked at the picture, Wade smiling as he pressed a kiss to Peter’s cheek, Peter’s own face was scrunched up in surprise with an expression Wade deemed ‘adorable’ and Peter deemed ‘the most disgraceful thing on God’s Earth.’

Peter shook his head, Wade wasn’t bad. Sure, he could be scary and dangerous but not when they were together. When they were together there was nothing but laughter and sweetness and comfort. Only a few days ago had Wade told him he loved him for the first time, and that was the reality.

Wade could be scary and dangerous, he could be a caged beast, but there was too much love, too much goodness in his gentle eyes and his big heart for him to ever be a monster. For Peter to ever push him away, for Peter to want him to be anywhere else but right here with him, where he belonged.

He wanted him home.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Wade was doing his best impression of a troll, but with the way he was feeling about himself he didn’t think he particularly deserved any better.

He’d hidden himself under a bridge, a distant streetlight flickering was the only light he had, hunched over where he crouched in an attempt to accommodate his healing back from the burns presumably there.

_At least it won’t leave any scars._

“Shut up.” Wade mumbled dejectedly, hugging himself in an attempt to keep warm. Try as he might to cover up his emotional pain with humour, tonight it just wasn’t cutting it.

He was upset, he was _ashamed._ After everything that had been happening this week, he’d actually began to form a different opinion of himself, that he was actually capable of helping people, that people were thanking him and appreciating him and actually learning to like him. He’d thought, just for a moment, that maybe he wasn’t as bad as he’d always thought. It was downright laughable now. It didn’t matter how much he pretended. He _wasn’t good._ He wasn’t good like _Spiderman._ He wasn’t good like Peter. No matter what anyone said. He was _bad_ like Deadpool and it was only ever going to be a matter of time until Peter got hurt. Until Deadpool hurt him. Until Wade hurt him.

“Jesus, fuck…” Wade muttered to himself, burying his face into the cocoon of his arms. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t know whether he should go to him and apologise, or if Peter never wanted to see him again. Hell, he’d left him with the fucking Goblin, who the hell knew what had happened there?

Wade had always been aware of the way he was; of the things he did. He’d never attempted the straight and narrow because he knew he’d never be able to sustain such a path and would just end up disappointing himself, but it wasn’t just himself he’d disappointed, it was Peter. The one person in the whole world he loved, he adored, he wanted to protect and he couldn’t even do that.

He didn’t feel evil or heartless he felt _useless,_ he could live with being the big bad scary Deadpool if it meant that Peter was safe. He could deal with being the way he was because Peter always liked him, maybe even loved him, that way. But now…now he didn’t know what Peter thought about him, and he didn’t think he could bear Peter looking at him with distain, with Peter sending him away.

“Well done, you big idiot.” He muttered to himself.

It had been an accident, he’d been going after the Goblin and Peter had gotten in the way but what if it hadn’t just been his arm? What if Peter had put his whole body in front of his friend?

Wade let out a strangled cry and stood straight, back fairly healed, and walked swiftly around underneath the bridge, desperate to rid his mind of that thought. He couldn’t even _think_ about anything worse happening to Peter, it wasn’t on his list of possibilities.

He’d been happy, honoured even, with the task to protect him, and would happily do it for the rest of his life but when he was one of the things Peter needed to be protected from – what the hell was he supposed to do?

He moped around underneath the bridge for another few hours, the back of his suit completely obliterated, he was half-worried that if he went out before the dead of night, people would see his skin and his newfound reputation would be history.

When it was pitch black and he was sure only a few people would be roaming around in the backstreets, he launched himself back over the bridge and sprinted back to the abandoned parking lot, hissing in accomplishment as he saw his katana lying on the floor where he’d dropped it in his haste to get to Peter.

“I have got to keep better track of you babies.” He said, bending down to pick it up off of the floor. He stilled as he saw the dried blood on the blade, the memory of him slashing it across Peter’s forearm as he jumped in front of the stupid Goblin to save his ass flashing across his mind with the same ferocity.

“Why would you do that, Pete, why?” He asked himself, shaking his head as he sheathed his katana on his back next to its brother. “Why do you let so many homicidal maniacs into your life? Why do you give either of us your time, neither of us deserve you. Neither of us.”

_You know, your plan of being discreet is kinda ruined by you shouting at the air. You realise you’re doing that a lot lately? Because you’ve been away from baby boy for so long, jackass. He’s good for you, keeps you sane._

Wade hesitated. When the voices in his head started talking sense he knew something was seriously wrong.

“Wow, I’m more fucked than I thought.” He muttered to himself, turning back to the city and halting.

Amid the canvas of skyscrapers that made up New York, two in particular stood out to Wade’s trained eye purely because they had what was, undeniably, a web stretched between them.

Keeping low, Wade stole into a backstreet, scaling a chain-link fence and running a zig zag between the buildings before spying a fire exit ladder a few feet above him. He launched himself up and grabbed the end, pulling it down with a loud scraping of metal against metal, he clambered up the ladder, making it shake with his body weight before he scaled onto the roof, now substantially closer to the two skyscrapers with the web stretched between them but no Spider in sight.

“Damnit.” Wade muttered to himself, scratching his head through his mask. “Petey, why you leaving your damn webs everywhere? You make a nest or…?”

He glanced up at the web again and paused, tilting his head at such an angle that he was able to make out the words messily scrawled with the webbing, spun at such an angle that one would only be able to make them out up close, therefore unreadable to anyone unable to scale buildings. Therefore, the recipient of the message was obvious.

It simply read: _‘Babe, come home’._

Wade felt like he was deflating, like all of the oxygen was oozing slowly from his frame and was unable to keep his footing. He stumbled back momentarily before he righted himself and stared at the message again, intended only for him.

_Come home_

“Oh, Peter…” He said quietly, smiling dolefully. Two things happened to him in that moment, the first was the realisation that Peter must be okay if he was able to swing around and spin webs to the best of his ability, and the second was, although obvious, enough to strike Wade down where he stood. Peter wanted him to come back, he wanted him to come home.

Wade knew he was at Peter’s mercy, no matter how big and scary and dangerous he was, when it came to Peter, he was totally submissive and if Peter wanted him there then that was exactly where he was going to be.

 

…

 

Peter’s arm was killing him as he peeled off his Spidey suit and let it rest over the back of the chair at his desk, pulling on some old jeans and Wade’s shirt so it wouldn’t disturb the bandage on his arm as he slid it through the wider sleeve. He was tempted to place his arm back into the gauze sling the nurse had instructed he use but he couldn’t even bare to lift it a little and didn’t want the pain of it being permanently elevated. He knew he wouldn’t be in this kind of pain if he hadn’t left his encrypted message on the edge of the city, but his arm was going to heal and he knew what was important right now, and what was important was sat on the sill of his permanently open window.

“Hey.” Wade said, sounding cautious, voice muffled by his mask.

“Wade…” Peter breathed out, sounding more relieved that he’d expected. “Thank God. I’ve…I’ve been worried.”

Wade huffed. “You’ve been worried? You…” He fell silent.

“How’s your back?” Peter asked, gesturing redundantly at him.

“Um…do you mind if I…you know…come in?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Peter said.

Wade climbed in through the window and turned his back, showcasing his scarred yet healed skin and the charred remains of the back of his suit and the twisted yet still functional scabbard that held his katanas.

“Oh, no…your suit…”

Wade turned back to him and shrugged. “It’s better than my leg.”

“That’s true.” Peter admitted, scratching his head with his good arm. “And better than…you know…my whole body, that the bomb would have exploded if you didn’t…save me…”

“Don’t.” Wade said, shaking his head. “I didn’t…I kind of undid all that effort by…umm…”

“Can you take your mask off?” Peter asked quietly. “I’d like to see you.”

Wade’s hands immediately went to his mask and pulled it off of his face, revealing the scars and discoloured skin, his eyes were filled with shame and embarrassment and it broke Peter’s heart.

Wade ducked his head as he saw the way Peter was looking at him. He found it hard to look at Peter with the shame burning within him. Peter’s arm was heavily bandaged and his face was drawn out with fatigue and pale with blood loss. But worst all of, he had his shirt hanging off of him, the shirt Wade had expressly left him to wear when he was missing him. He’d never hated himself as much as he did in that moment.

But most of all, he hated the distance between him. He wanted Peter in his arms, he wanted to kiss him and tell him how sorry he was and how he would move the Earth and steal the Moon to make it up to him but he felt like he didn’t have the right to. Like he needed Peter’s permission to move.

“Um…what happened with Harry?” He found himself asking dumbly.

“Oh, yeah, he took me to the…well, he seems okay…I think he’s in shock…”

“Right, right. Not every day you find out your best friend is Spiderman.”

“No, no.”

They fell silent.

Peter hated this, he hated the chasm between them. He hated the way Wade was looking at him, or not looking at him, he hated it when Wade didn’t make dumb jokes because it meant something was terribly wrong. Today had been an accident, that’s all it was, an accident. And it was not worth losing everything they had over, at least not to him.

“Wade…?” He asked.

“Yeah, Peter?”

“Will you…umm…would you like to…please…?”

“Do you want me to go?” Wade finished, looking desolately back at him.

“No!” Peter found himself almost shouting. “No I want you here…like, here! Like right now.”

Before Peter’s heightened senses could even fully register Wade’s lightening movements, the taller man strode across the space between them and gathered Peter in his arms in a microsecond. Peter threw his arms around Wade’s neck, ignoring the pain in his forearm, and held tightly as Wade peppered soft kisses along his jaw and down his neck, making the younger superhero moan softly into his broad chest, breathing in his unique scent and feeling his warmth engulfing him and feeling, for the first time that evening, that everything was alright.

“I missed you.” Peter mumbled into Wade’s clothed chest. “I was worried about you. I thought maybe you’d done something stupid.”

“I’m sorry.” Wade said, breathing in his scent. “I’m sorry I scared you. I’m sorry I hurt you, I’m so sorry. I’ll never hurt you again, I promise, but…” He pulled away from Peter slightly, the younger man’s strength not allowing him to pull away any more than a few inches until their noses were brushing against each other. “I’m being serious here, Peter. If you want me to go, then I’ll go.”

“No, no, no, don’t say that…” Peter replied immediately, stroking along Wade’s jawline with his fingertips before pressing a soft kiss to his lips and then pulling back, catching his gentle eyes staring down at him and never wanting to look anywhere else.

“I love you.” Peter told him earnestly. “I love you so much and I want you around forever.”

Wade stared at him, eyes shifting imperceptibly, mouth opening slightly as if he were trying to speak. Trying to tell Peter that he shouldn’t love him, that he didn’t even remotely deserve his forgiveness but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

“That…” Wade began. “…Is all I ever wanted to hear.”

Peter smiled that beautiful smile as he wrapped his arms around Wade’s neck, pulling the taller man down to him.

“Please don’t leave me again.” Peter asked, voice barely audible, fear obvious in his wide eyes.

Wade shook his head. “Never. I promise you. I’ll be right here for as long as you want me. I’ll do anything you want; be anything you want. If you get sick of me and don’t want to see me for a week, then I’ll go. If you want to pin me down and use me until you’re done with me then here I am. Whatever you want, just tell me.”

Peter cocked his head to the side for a moment, messy hair flopping into his eyes as he regarded him. Wade took one hand from Peter’s waist and brushed his hair out of his eyes, unable to resist running his hand through Peter’s soft locks. Peter pulled a hand from Wade’s neck and grasped his wrist.

“I want…” Peter began finally. “I want you to tell me you love me and then I want you to kiss me, I want you to make love to me, and fall asleep with me and be there when I wake up tomorrow.”

“That’s it?” Wade asked, smirking. “You realise I’m offering to do anything for you, and you just want me here?”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Peter told him, inching his hand up Wade’s wrist and entwining their fingers.

Wade blinked. “I love you.” He said softly, before leaning forward and capturing Peter’s mouth in a kiss. Peter moaned as he instinctively parted his lips, capturing Wade’s bottom lip with his own and sighing. Then Wade’s strong jaw was forcing his mouth open, choosing the continuous slide of their lips against each other. Peter pushed himself up onto his toes, attempting to level himself with Wade’s height, pushing his tongue through Wade’s parted lips until he could taste him.

Wade could always read Peter’s body, he knew how to press his buttons better than Peter did, and it was only a fraction of a second later that Wade’s strong hands were curling around Peter’s ass, lifting him off of the floor and forcing the younger man to wrap his legs around his waist, giving him the necessary height to plunge into Wade’s mouth, deepening the kiss. Wade moaned as one hand dug into Peter’s thigh, supporting him as he tangled his tongue with Peter’s, feeling his hot, heavy warmth invading him and taking him to pieces. He loved kissing Peter, he loved how it felt like their kisses went on for hours but when one of them eventually pulled away it still didn’t feel like long enough.

They would often disregard whatever film they were watching or whatever conversation they were having for long make out sessions on Peter’s couch or at his kitchen table or in the shower or even in the middle of superhero battles sometimes, Peter pulling him behind a building while the Avengers were saving the Earth and explosions were firing all around just to plant one soggy one on him because he couldn’t wait. They wouldn’t even grope each other or fuck afterwards, they would just get lost in each other’s mouths, tongues sliding against each other, lips pressed fervently against one another until they were both dizzy.

And that’s precisely what was happening now, Peter didn’t appear to have any agenda, he was quite happy to let Wade lazily fuck his mouth until the sun came up, and Wade would have been more than happy with that too but unfortunately, when it came to plans and agendas, Wade was extremely diligent and he remembered, very clearly, the third item in Peter’s list of demands.

Peter had ordered Wade to make love to him. Not to fuck him, to make love to him, and while Wade didn’t do that an awful lot, he had a fairly good idea what it entailed and was more than ready to rock Peter’s world.

Wade walked the pair of them over to Peter’s bed, kneeling on the edge and gently lowering the younger man atop the covers, pulling his arms from around his neck.

Peter hissed in pain and held his bandaged arm instinctively into his body. He caught Wade staring down at him with concern in his eyes and attempted a smile, trying to hide the extent of the pain from Wade so as to not upset him, moving his arm to his side and wincing as he did so.

“Hey.” Wade said, reaching his hands out and gently supporting Peter’s bandaged arm and bringing it to rest on the soft mattress. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to hide from me. Okay? Don’t ever let me get away with anything, alright. If I hurt you, you have every right to make me pay for it.”

“Sorry.” Peter said quietly, shifting himself on the bed, making an effort not to move his arm from the bed, the position oddly comfortable. “I just…I don’t want you feeling bad or blaming yourself. It was an accident, accidents happen all the time. I scratch the hell out of your skin whenever we have sex. The only difference is that you heal and I don’t. You’d be in a hospital bed with an amputated leg, a scorched back and however many other injuries you’ve sustained this week because of me. You were just trying to protect me earlier, I appreciate it. I love you for it. And…” He sat up a bit straighter on the bed, pulling his legs closer into his body. “If you’ll really do whatever I want you to, then…I want you to admit that what happened today with my arm wasn’t your fault.”

Wade hesitated.

Peter raised his eyebrows. “You promised. You have to do it. ‘It wasn’t my fault’, I want to hear you say it.”

Wade smiled, he couldn’t help it, and leant forward on his knees, pressing a kiss to Peter’s nose. “It wasn’t my fault.” He whispered against his skin. When he pulled back, Peter was practically beaming.

“See, that was easy, wasn’t it?”

Wade raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure, kid. That was easy. Now will you lie back, I’m trying to make love to you.” He said, mock-petulantly.

“Yes, sir.” Peter bit his bottom lip as he laid back against the bed, resting on his elbows, legs falling enticing apart, but there was humour in his eyes and Wade knew he was being more cheeky than seductive but the line was blurred enough to make Wade stiffen slightly in his suit.

Wade blinked and had to take a moment to clear his head before he hopped back off of the bed, trying not to hesitate as he pulled what remained of his suit from his body, leaving his weapons on Peter’s desk, leaving his suit next to Peter’s over the back of the chair, the black, red and blue mixing with each other.

He turned back to Peter, fully naked, to find the younger man staring at him.

He felt odd being all exposed like this, sure, he often took his clothes off during sex but it felt like he was putting on a show for Peter, exposing himself in all his scarred glory like it was something to be proud of and that was weird for him.

But the look in Peter’s eyes as they travelled the expanse of his body wasn’t a look of disgust or distain, it was a look of hunger and appreciation. Wade wasn’t beautiful but Peter thought he was and that was all that mattered.

“Don’t get too turned on now.” Wade grinned, kneeling back onto the bed and crawling in between Peter’s legs, supporting himself with his hands, the soft mattress dipping under his weight. “I know how perfect I am but we don’t want this to be over too soon.”

Peter laughed as he used his legs to wrap around Wade’s back, pulling the larger man into him and kissing him, all tongues and teeth, Wade’s hands finding their way to the hem of his own shirt, making an exaggerated effort to pull it from Peter’s body without disturbing his arm too much. Peter lifted his arm from the bed and slipped it through the sleeve, immediately letting it rest against the soft mattress once more.

“Do you want any painkillers or anything?” Wade asked softly, depositing his shirt on the floor, exposing the planes of Peter’s pale chest to him.

Peter shook his head. “I took some a few hours ago. I’ll be okay.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t be using up all your energy creating spider nests at the edge of the city…” Wade scolded with a smile as he began to unzip Peter’s jeans, pulling them and his boxers off around his ankles and discarding them on the floor, leaving him completely exposed.

“You noticed that, hmm?” Peter asked, blushing despite himself.

Wade nodded. “I presumed it was for me. Unless you were bargaining on some other super being in town to get the message. Something going on between you and Hawkeye I should know about?”

“At least Clint wouldn’t try and cut my arm off.” Peter muttered, sitting up and pressing a kiss to Wade’s neck.

“Hey!” Wade scolded, pulling back. “What part of me making love to you involves you doing any of the work? Lie your ass down, I won’t tell you again.”

Peter pursed his lips as he let himself flop back onto the bed, not taking his eyes off of Wade as the mercenary sat back onto his ankles, looking positively glorious. His exposed body a masterpiece of scar tissue adorning defined muscle, his immense cock just lifting as he hardened, already flushed deep red with blood causing the transparent, embossed scars to stand out, successfully ruining Peter for any other smooth dick out there.

“Ribbed for your pleasure.” Wade said, eyes sparkling.

“How the hell do you do that?” Peter blurted out.

“Do what?” Wade asked, taken aback.

“You always know exactly what I’m thinking. Do you have a special mind reading power you’ve kept from me all this time?”

Wade smirked. “Baby, would it upset you if I told you that you’re embarrassingly easy to read?”

Peter’s face fell. “I am?”

Wade nodded. “When you stare at a man’s cock and salivate, I’m not gonna lie, I can make an educated guess about what’s on that not-so-innocent mind of yours.”

Peter’s good hand flew to his mouth and his eyes widened in horror at the saliva he felt on his chin.

“Oh my God.” He said, mortified as his eyes hit the mattress and he felt a deep blush spread across his cheeks.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” Wade told him earnestly. “It’s one of the things I love about you. I know you’re never lying to me when you say I look okay. It makes me feel a little less ugly around you.”

Peter’s eyes lifted until he met Wade’s, gentle and endearing, and he didn’t know what to say.

“Because you’re not ugly.” Peter told him. “I could never…I have never…I wouldn’t change you for the world.”

Wade stared wordlessly at him for the longest moment before he dipped his head and gently mouthed Peter’s abdomen.

Peter’s eyes fluttered closed instinctively as his head fell back against the bed, moaning gently as Wade alternated between kissing and licking a path along his stomach, his large hands travelled up Peter’s body until they reached his shoulders, massaging little circles and causing his tense muscles to release.

“Oh, oh Wade…” Peter breathed out as Wade’s mouth latched onto Peter’s nipple, suckling the nub gently until Peter quivered beneath him.

“Feels…feels so good, baby…” Peter murmured, hands finding Wade’s head and latching onto his neck, running his hands up and down his newly healed back and enjoying the way his scars teased the flesh of his palms. His arm twinged at him but the pain was on the back burner, particularly when Wade’s hands left his shoulders and his mouth left his chest and the mercenary had travelled down his body and was licking a path along his hardened cock.

“Oh, crap!” Peter breathed out heavily in shock. “Oh, God…”

Wade smirked as he looked up at him, eyes closed and face blissed out, and  he suckled Peter’s sensitive and shining head into his mouth while simultaneously reaching to the side of the bed and flicking open the lid of a tube of lube he’d stored there for easy access.

“Oh, Wade, Wade, Wade…” Peter was moaning continuously as he bucked his hips up into him, desperate to get more of his cock into Wade’s warm heat. He stilled completely when he felt Wade’s slick finger teasing his hole, Wade’s other hand curling around Peter’s knee and pushing his leg up to his chest to give him better access.

Peter was pinned and could do nothing but lie there as Wade pressed a finger into him, scraping along his insides and probing interestedly at his prostate, mouth still latched onto his cock and sucking gently albeit unrelentingly on the delicate flesh.

“Wade…” Peter slurred, good hand flying to his face as Wade pressed another finger into him, simultaneously taking more of his cock into his mouth and suckling in a continuous, maddeningly gentle rhythm.

Then Wade’s free hand moved from Peter’s leg and pressed firmly against his hip bone, pinning him to the bed as his thick fingers continued working in and out of him. Peter cried out as Wade’s fingers found that place inside of him and his tongue lapped gently along the sensitised underside of his cock head and he trembled, a string of unintelligible moans falling from his mouth, reducing him to a boneless, erotic mess beneath Wade’s fingertips.

Wade felt Peter’s dick twitch against his tongue and stilled his ministrations, knowing that Peter couldn’t be too far away but was in no fit state to tell him so. He ever so gently allowed Peter’s cock to slip from the wet cavern of his mouth, his fingers leaving Peter’s ass gaping and dripping, wet and pink and abused.

Peter looked _sublime,_ completely stretched out on the bed, legs tight against his chest, hands covering his eyes, shaking all over. Wade felt bad for moving away but he knew Peter would be saddened to come and miss what Wade had in store for him. But then with what had happened the other day, Wade wasn’t sure how many times Peter felt like he could come in one sitting. He’d probably never mentioned it before because he didn’t want Wade to feel like he couldn’t satisfy him or something equally ridiculous. But the thought of Peter riding his cock, sweating out orgasm after orgasm until he couldn’t take it anymore was one of the hottest fantasies he’d ever had.

Wade sat back on his ankles, strong hands travelling up Peter’s legs, pulling them gently but firmly from his body and around his own waist, completely exposing Peter to him. Peter uncovered his eyes and stared up wordlessly at Wade, his face was a picture of desire and wanton need.

Wade’s hand was still sticky where he’d fingered Peter open and he pumped his own erection a few times, slicking himself efficiently before he leant forward until his taunt abdomen was resting against Peter’s, Peter’s legs tightened around his waist, bringing him in closer and Peter’s arms found themselves wrapped around his neck.

Wade stroked one hand through Peter’s damp hair as he used the other to guide his cock head to Peter’s hole, bumping his entrance and Peter gasped, pulling his hurt arm back and stroking Wade’s face gently, eyes sparkling.

“I love you, Deadpool.” He said quietly.

Wade smiled. “I love you, too, Spidey.” He said, leaning forward and pressing his mouth to Peter’s as he let the head of his cock sink into Peter’s waiting hole. Peter groaned into his mouth and Wade swallowed it, letting it vibrate his skin as he licked inside Peter’s lax mouth, thrusting slowly into him. Peter’s legs tight around him wouldn’t afford him the room to pull out more than a couple of inches causing him to maintain a constant presence in Peter, never fully letting up on his prostate and massaging him into a state of frenzied bliss.

“Oh, God, Wade…” Peter choked out, caught between Wade’s tongue pressing against his own and making him breathless and Wade’s cock rubbing continuously against his prostate and pushing all the air from his body. His cock was pinned between his abdomen and Wade’s, shifting against Wade’s scarred stomach every time he thrust in and out of him, the stimulation to every single area in his body was too much and Peter had to scramble to cling onto Wade, his fingernails digging into Wade’s shoulder blades and making the older man groan into his mouth.

Peter whimpered into Wade’s mouth as his cock spilled between them, a trail of white trickling from his head and making a sticky mess against their abdomens.

He breathed heavily, expecting Wade to still but he didn’t, he continued thrusting in and out of Peter, cock bumping continuously onto his overly sensitive prostate. Peter jerked beneath him uncontrollably.

“Peter…” Wade murmured against his jaw, ducking his head down. “If you need to come again, I won’t stop, I’ll…I’ll never stop, okay? Not until you’re done.”

Wade’s scarred abdomen scraping against his sensitive cock was overwhelming, just the right side of painful and the slide of Wade’s huge cock in his ass, stretching him wide as it plowed into him again and again, hitting his prostate every time was just too perfect, too perfect and Peter cried out as he spurted again, riding his second orgasm unthinkingly and rolling his hips over Wade’s cock, tightening almost painfully around him and then Wade was coming deep in Peter’s ass, shouting out as Peter rocked back onto his cock unrelentingly, squeezing every droplet of come from him. Peter squirmed uncontrollably beneath him, legs tightening around him and pulling Wade even deeper into him. Wade growled as he planted his hands on either side of Peter’s head, broad chest shaking.

Peter had his eyes closed beneath him, beautifully pained expression on his face, body soaked with sweat and Wade made an exaggerated effort to control his breathing.

“Do you want me to pull out?” He asked him softly, dipping his head and pressing a kiss to Peter’s trembling wind pipe.

Peter shook his head, arms winding around Wade and clinging to him. “No, no.” He gasped between breaths. “If you do…your come…it’ll trickle out and I don’t know if I can take it…I don’t think I can come again…”

Wade raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? It really feels that good?”

Peter smirked up at him. “What? Have you never had anyone come in your ass before?”

Wade shook his head honestly before he grinned. “I’ll have to let you come in me sometime.” He kissed him again. “Imagine that, Petey. Imagine my tight heat around your beautiful cock. Imagine all those raised scars stimulating you the way you love them to. It’ll suffocate you, you know. Milk you like you do to me every damn time.” As he spoke, he pulled out ever so slightly and thrust shallowing back into Peter, the younger man groaned as a few measly droplets dribbled lazily from his spent cock, causing him to shiver as they dripped down his sensitive cock and settled at the base, tangling his dusting of soft hair.

He whacked Wade hard on the arm. “You dick, you did that on purpose.” He accused breathlessly.

“It’s too pretty, Spidey. I can’t help myself.”

Peter grumbled good naturedly as Wade sat back, gently pulling himself from Peter’s tight heat, wincing as he manhandled his over-stimulated cock.

He watched, mesmerised, as his own seed dripped from Peter’s abused hole, the younger man convulsed at the sensation.

Wade smiled as he pressed a chaste kiss to Peter’s lips before he hopped off of the bed, legs surprisingly boneless, and grabbed a wad of tissue from the bathroom.

When he flopped back on the bed, he made an exaggerated effort to be extremely gentle as he wiped a mixture of their come from Peter’s spent flesh, standing again to throw the tissues away and when he’d turned back, Peter had scrambled under the covers and had pulled them back for him.

He rolled his eyes but climbed under the covers, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend as Peter snuggled into him, skin practically ice cold. Wade shivered but didn’t pull away, knowing he’d warm Peter up in no time, anyhow.

“Thank you.” Peter found himself saying. “I don’t know what just happened but it was the best night of my life.”

Wade laughed as he pressed a kiss to Peter’s temple. Peter closed his eyes contentedly, happy that Wade was with him like this. He wanted to make him stay in this bed forever.

“I have a proposition for you.” Peter said.

“Hmm?” Wade asked, stroking up and down his bare arm comfortingly.

“I want you to be my boyfriend.” Peter said.

“I am your boyfriend.” Wade said. “I thought we had this conversation. I wanted to trademark it, but you wouldn’t let me.”

Peter twisted until he was on his front and facing Wade, the mercenary staring inquisitively up at him. “I was wrong.” Peter said. “I want to trademark it. I want to make it official. I don’t want you to climb in through my window at night, I want you in my bed, forever. I want you to meet my Aunt May and go out with me in public, not as Deadpool, but as Wade Wilson. I want us to be together, if you want that, too.”

Wade blew out his cheeks and stared at the ceiling. “Wade Wilson going legit? I don’t know, sounds scary.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Scarier than being a mercenary? Scarier than being a superhero?”

“Yes! Are you insane? Violence comes easy to me, but love? That’s a whole different ballgame. I might disappoint you.”

“You might fucking kill me, as well. I’ll take what I can get.”

Wade cocked his head to the side. “I’m such a bad influence on you, do you know that? But I know you like that about me, I do, I can read you like a book. You like that I’m scary and unpredictable, it turns you on. Are you worried we might lose that, if we go straight, I might bore you?”

Peter scoffed. “Wade, you are many things but one thing you’re definitely not is boring. And…you would never disappoint me, Wade. You never have. If I have to spend every day for the rest of my life convincing you that I love you, then I will. Hell, it would even be an honour.”

A small smile played on Wade’s lips and lit up his eyes like a Christmas tree. “Okay, then.” He said quietly. “Deal, I’ll be your boyfriend. But only if you’ll be mine.”

“Deal.” Peter grinned before laying his head on Wade’s chest. Wade’s broad arms wrapped around him and he was quite content for a moment before something occurred to him.

“We’ll be able to tell the guys.”

Wade’s face fell as he realised exactly who the ‘guys’ were. “Steve is gonna kill me.” He groaned. “For corrupting such a sweet young super.”

“You haven’t corrupted me.”

“Oh, really? How’s your arm?” He asked sarcastically.

“Sore.” Peter admitted honestly. “But that’s the last thing on my mind right now. If you make love to me like that every time I hurt myself, I might just start getting very clumsy.”

Wade laughed. “You know; I could get used to this ‘making love’ business. Might not be good for my rep, but no one else has to know.”

“Same.” Peter admitted. “But, and I’m being serious here, if you ever stop fucking me to within an inch of my life on any and all available surfaces, then I swear to God, it’s over.”

“Trust me, babe. If I ever stop, you might as well kill me because I’ll already be dead.”

They laughed and laid together for a long time, basking in post-coital afterglow, until something occurred to Peter.

“I finished my paper.” He admitted. “Turned it in this afternoon.”

“Oh, yeah.” Wade muttered. “Wonder if the readers remember that.”

“That’s why I was on patrol earlier and saw you guys. I always swing by that parking lot, this gang always has these cock fights there…”

Wade blinked. “What kind of disgusting…” He muttered under his breath.

“I can go back to being Spiderman now.” Peter continued, inclining his head to face him where they were lying. “Thank you for helping me out.”

“No worries, baby boy. I don’t think I’m cut out to be Spiderman. I’m cut out to be Deadpool. I just…I don’t think he’s as much of a bad guy as I thought he was.”

Peter licked his lips. “Just, promise me something, okay?”

“Anything.”

“Don’t ever change.” Peter told him earnestly, smiling softly. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”

Wade stared at him as if he were staring into the sun, finger grazing along Peter’s chin before they were kissing again – pure bliss.

 

…

 

One Week Later

 

Wade adjusted his hood with a gloved hand as he watched all the people on the street strolling around him, just in case it slipped back and anyone caught sight of his face.

He felt a hand slip into his own and glanced to his side to see Peter staring up at him, small smile playing on his lips, his chocolate hair shining in the sunlight.

“Aren’t you scared people will stare?” Wade accused jokingly. “People might think we’re gay.”

Peter rolled his eyes and Wade grinned, secretly very pleased Peter wanted to hold his hand in public without a mask to hide behind. Suddenly he didn’t mind being out in the open so much.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Peter said suddenly, stopping in the street.

“What?” Wade asked, looking where Peter was looking to find the younger man staring down a news stand, fresh issues of the Daily Bugle staring back at them.

The front cover was just two separate pictures of the pair of them, obviously not Peter Parker and Wade Wilson as they were now, but Spiderman and Deadpool, and a headline that read:

_MASKED MENACE RUNS HERO OUT OF TOWN_

Wade snatched the issue from the stand and stared down at it, frown visible even from the darkened shadow cast by his hood.

“They called me a hero.” He said, sounding shocked. Then, more accusingly; “If anyone is the masked menace here, then it’s me.”

Peter grinned as he slipped an arm around Wade’s waist, sidling up to him. “Luckily Spiderman has a lot of time for those.” He whispered against Wade’s cheek before he leant up on his tip toes and kissed him; soft, sincere and sweet.

Wade tilted his head in confusion like a puppy as Peter pulled away.

“What did I ever do to deserve you, Peter Parker?” He asked, genuinely inquisitively.

Peter blinked once as he stared up into Wade’s gentle, beautiful, expressive eyes, so full of love and pain and adoration and couldn’t help thinking;

_Same, you big idiot. Same._

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just wanted to say thank you everyone for the awesome reviews and all of the support, as usual this was a massively fun story to write, I’m loving writing Deadpool partially because he’s so funny but also because he’s so beautifully complex and can’t wait to do some more Spideypool in the future :)


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